World Academy for Minor Personifications
by VstavajSonce
Summary: Even personifications need to review the basics. Some, more than others. (Rated T: Violence, Swearing, Slight Adult Themes, and Sophomoric Humor.)
1. Introduction: Rewritten

**Author's Note: **I'm rewriting chapter one completely, instead of revising it. I made so many mistakes from chapter one and on, I think it'd just be better to redo the whole story. The plot, for the most part, will remain the same. I'm very sorry to ask you all to reread this, but please do. For the sake of my pride.

I'll be rewriting each chapter in order, as well as posting new ones. The rewrites will probably end at chapter Fourteen. Unless I think I need to redo anything else after that. But probably not.

* * *

><p>On a sunny day, under a clear, endless blue sky, many middle-aged adults crammed mostly unwilling personifications into the large, domed center building of the World Academy.<p>

For the previous week, the personifications of any minor country, city, town, village, state, and province had been loading suitcase after suitcase into the large, four-storied dorms on the east side of the campus.

One student in particular had been noted: Illinois. She'd come before everyone else, moved into a random dorm room on the third floor of the Female dorm—of course, the one she'd been assigned had been 'too small'.-and started painting. Bright, fierce green.

Now, when the principal—Mr. Dylan, a kind man, and quite a push-over—had come into the dorm, she'd coerced him into letting her have her way. She'd not even a slap on the wrist for her disobedience. Her boss had been notified. He didn't care in the least.

The vice-principal had decided that she hated Miss Megan Jones with a passion after that. Decided that any little thing she did from now on would result in the fiercest punishment she could administer. Saturday detention.

Of course, they always had the stocks as a threat, but that would result in a scandal, or a lawsuit. Besides, the loss of a perfectly good weekend was enough to set most students in line. Even ones that were several centuries older than herself.

* * *

><p>Megan Jones felt that the sky should match her dread of the first day of school. August twenty-ninth should have been a dreary, rain-drenched day. In addition to her hatred of the educational establishment, the one she'd meant to meet with at the doors had stood her up. And in his place? His roommate.<p>

An old annoyance of Illinois—Wisconsin.

He was a slightly chubby boy, with golden-blonde curls and sweet, pale blue eyes. He had a love of cheese, and always had a bit of a sweet spot for the girl he'd derived from. Otherwise known as Illinois, Megan Jones, the one who'd hated him since his birth.

Of course, the one Megan had planned to meet didn't know anything about that. It wasn't something she liked to talk about, obviously. Her territory being split so shamefully... That _abomination_ that followed her around and called himself a state. Ha. Bastard.

He hadn't meant for Megan to be alone. It was a sweet gesture, all the same, but Illinois would have none of it.

"Megan, please," Wisconsin said softly, trying to calm her down, "you're being silly."

Megan scoffed cruelly and stared him down with cold eyes, "You're being a tool."

"Wh-what? Why would you even say that?"

She gave no reply, simply looking past him, over his shoulder, into the school lobby. Target aquired.

"Alaska!" She called out, "Katie!"

A tall, willowy girl turned around. Her silvery hair flew about her innocently, though her gaze was murderous. "Ah, hello, big sister."

Illinois threw her arms around the younger girl, "I missed you so much, Katie!"

Katherine smiled sweetly at the brunette, almost three inches shorter than her, and returned the hug. "And I, you."

"I didn't see you all summer! I was so lonely!" Megan cried, nuzzling her face into the other girl's neck.

"I tried to visit, of course." The blonde spoke, "You weren't there."

"Oh!" Illinois released Alaska from her grasp and grinned sheepishly, "I was in Belgium back in July."

Alsaska gave no thought to this news, "Anyway, have you seen New Jersey? I lost her when we got here?"

"You came together?"

"Oh, yes. She hasn't been here since the renovation—it would be dangerous for her to come alone."

"Well. You're nice."

"Thank you."

Illinois gave her little sister a salute, then stomped off into the room adjacent to the lobby—the gymnasium.

Many of the students had taken the bleachers up and most of the steel folding chairs on the gym floor. The eternal chatter echoed around the large dome ceiling and made it nearly impossible for any one of the students to think. But the chatter continued, despite their absent thoughts.

Illinois placed herself in the third row of the left wing, beside Iowa, who was linked arm-and-arm with Ohio. They both smiled at her as she sat, though she seemed in a bad way.

"Hey, Meggie." Iowa pulled a small bundle of corn muffins from her satchel, "Want one?"

"Nope." The older girl crossed her arms and glared at the center of the gym floor, where a small stage and podium were set up.

"What's your problem, stupid?" Ohio asked.

"Your face," She replied steadily.

Iowa looked uncomfortable at their ease to speak so... harshly with each other. But they had known each other longer than they'd known her. Perhaps cruelty and insensitivity came easily if one regarded the other as a sibling. Or perhaps just with time.

Iowa and Illinois' dorm mate Singapore was sitting behind them with several of what could be her siblings, or, whatever she regarded them as.

An announcement sounded over the loudspeaker for all the students to head into the gymnasium. Illinois scoffed, though the others seated around her looked slightly annoyed. Some wondered aloud where her Underling was, and some tried to hush those asking too many questions for fear of danger.

To clear up any confusion, Illinois' Underling was someone who was terribly unlucky to be forced into her company for an entire school year. Four unlucky souls for every thirty years had to follow her around while she chattered on about nothing, … An entire year...

No one bothered to debate it with her. Because one, she was impossible to argue with, and two, that any former underling was blessed with unmatched luckiness once the term was over. Suffering through Illinois' company for nine months for ten years of riches and social well-being? Mostly worth it.

For this high school career, her previous Underlings had been Ohio for sophomore, and Missouri for freshman. As of her junior year, none had officially been named. Rumors had named Wisconsin, but the likelihood of that was so low that all rumors were regarded as false.

Up on the podium, a handsome boy with light brown hair prepared for his speech. His eyes locked with a girl's in the bleachers. He gulped. She looked mad. Two rows behind her, looking melancholy was Wisconsin—he'd probably been harassed by her. Really, after spending an entire summer together, you'd think Illinois would grow up and stop acting so demanding.

He coughed into the microphone as the principal took his seat. As soon as the first two words came out of his mouth, Illinois jumped up.

He paused, and she did not speak.

And he spoke again, and so did she.

"YOU'RE AN ASSHAT! SERIOUSLY!"

He took a step back from the microphone, every eye in the room fixated on Megan Jones.

She looked awfully pleased with herself.

She descended down the cement steps o the gym floor, and all the students in the fold-out chairs twisted around in their seats to see her.

She came nose to nose with Flanders when she reached the podium. Whispers began about how the two might have become acquainted. Was Illinois a jilted lover of this man? This, Flanders? Was he the new Underling?

"You ditched me." She shoved him.

"I sent Wisconsin."

"A poor substitute."

"In my defense, I thought you were friends."

"Never," she pouted. "He's a bastard."

"Excuse me," The principal said warily, not stepping to close to the Belgian and the American, "But can we get on with this?"

Illinois nodded, "Of course. Once he apologizes."

"For what?!"

"Being a tool."

In the end, the principal made Flanders apologize, and Illinois got to sit with the teachers on the podium. No one was entirely sure why she was allowed to.

"Claude, dude," Illinois grabbed the Belgian by his wrist as he tried desperately to escape to the lobby and leave to the Language Department.

"What? We have to get to class."

"What do you have first hour? I've got some people for you to meet," Megan said.

"English." He said bitterly.

"Fantastic," she cried, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the lawn to their next class.

* * *

><p>The English classroom was majorly empty, save for Iowa and Ohio, who were discussing something quietly at the back table.<p>

Illinois dove to embrace Iowa, who was hesitant to return it.

"Hello, Megan."

"Hey, hey, guys. I've got someone for you to meet," She grinned, and grabbed Flanders by his collar, "This is Claude. He's the bro I spent the summer with."

"Oh, well, nice to meet you." Iowa smiled.

Ohio nodded, "We've heard so little about you. You must suck."

Illinois found that rather funny, and Flanders cringed. Such brutish humor didn't amuse him at all. And it was then when he decided that all the American students were definitely not worth talking to at all. He'd met most of them in this three years at school, and only unfortunate things had occurred in the time since.

Claude took his seat next to Illinois, as he figured she wouldn't take it too well if he didn't sit beside her. After a moment, just as the bell rang, his sister came into the room, and sat across the isle from him.

She blinked twice, then realized who he was, "Claude! I missed you!"

She laughed and grinned and stood to hug him, though he did not stand for her.

"Claude, I love what you're wearing. I didn't know we didn't have to wear the uniform." She gestured to her blazer and skirt, "I tried my best with it, what do you think?"

"It's fine, Lisette." He sighed, and cupped his cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Oh," she gasped, and reached out towards him, "You've got a cowlick, do you want me to—"

He swatted her hands away, his cheeks pink, "Hands to yourself."

"Come on, Claude. Just let me fix your hair!"

They continued on for a few more minutes, until Singapore—who'd been sitting in front of Wallonia—decided to stand and exit the teacher-less classroom. Illinois was the first to notice, which startled Iowa, as she shouted at the Asian nation, "Hey, Where ya' goin'?"

She was not met with a response.

Author's Note: Yeah, I told you. Mostly the same. But slightly better. I tried to add more explanation and detail. I also tried to put in more dialogue, bigger scenes with characters, hints to the other chapters, so on. I don't think I did it very well, though. And I apologize.

**-VstavajSonce**


	2. Meetings: Revised

**A/N~ Hallo~! Another update, aren't I cool? Ahahaha- Ahem, anyway, this one's Singapore/Iowa/Wallonia-centric, and the next few chapters will be focused on one or two characters at a time, until I get through introducing all of them. **

**Not even sure why these characters are all cramped into this one, but yeah. Ha-ha. **

**Oh! And as I was writing this, I got two new characters! (Northern Ireland and Michigan- Wahoo~!) So I crammed those guys in here. Also, love the crap outta all of y'all. **

**Enjoy~! **

**O.O.O.O**

**EDIT: This is the revised version. This chapter wasn't as bad as the last one, but it was still pretty damn bad. Enjoy the new version, my darlings~! C:**

O.O.O.O

Singapore sat down at her assigned seat, staring blankly at the classmates around her. Several girls giggled cheerfully and continued on with their useless chatter. She recognized Flanders, who looked completely miserable, by the company of his sister, Wallonia-Though she was widely advertising her name, Lisette, instead of being formal and using her title.

The girl flipped a lock of sandy brown hair over her shoulder, grin spread across her face, "Just let me fix your hair, Claude!" Flanders proceeded to push her hands away frantically, while Lisette giggled madly.

Singapore stood up, ready to leave the uninteresting room and find their teacher, who was probably lost, seeing as how the school was comprised of three four story buildings, then the separate dorms for the students and teachers. Since the late bell had already rung, she figured it wouldn't hurt to go search for her. Even though she'd been a student there for three years, it was still a pain trying to navigate through the crowded hallways.

As soon as she reached the doorway, two brown-haired Americans nearly tripped into her. The shorter one immediately apologized, while she recognized the taller one as the rude girl who had interrupted the speech that morning.

They both paused for a moment, then Illinois grabbed Iowa's wrist and tugged her past Singapore and into the classroom, dragging her to a pair of empty seats.

"Oh-my-God, did'ja see that creepy girl's death glare? Like she wanted me fucking dead! Freaky! I saw her this morning and-"

Illinois cut herself off by realizing Claude was in the room. The next few seconds were filled with squealing and the sound of chairs clattering on the floor, but Singapore hardly noticed, due to the fact she was halfway down the hallway.

The next few minutes passed by uneventfully, the short-haired girl searching the empty halls for the missing teacher.

She considered going back, but by then, she wasn't even sure what building she was in, or what story. She hadn't seen a window for what seemed like hours, though it had only been a minute or two, and the usual classroom noises she had heard as she passed had long since quieted.

As she reached another flight of stairs, she spun around, trying to retrace her steps. She only got so far as the corner to the next hallway, though, because she ran into something hard. Knocked back onto the ground, she looked at the thing that she'd run into- a familiar man, with mussed up blonde hair and bright emerald eyes.

England stared down at her, his expression questioning. His thick brows furrowed together, "Ashley?"

She gave a curt nod in response. Today was not her day. First, no one bothered to wake her up, so she had to rush, then she was so late for breakfast that there was nothing left, and then she had to deal with that crazy Illinois girl, and now this. She sighed quite audibly, catching England's attention again. Interrupting what seemed to be a hushed conversation with some imaginary being.

"Do you need help up?" He asked her, holding his out to the girl, who still sat on the floor. He was obviously trying to be the gentleman he always claimed to be.

"Not from you," She said roughly, scrambling up to her feet, "I'm capable of taking care of myself."

"Fair enough," He replied, starting to walk down the hallway, he peered to her over his shoulder, pausing in his tracks for a moment, "You're coming to class, aren't you?"

She stared bitterly at the man's retreating figure, "There won't be a class if I don't find the teacher, la."

He let out a small chuckle and smiled, "What do you mean? The teacher found you."

"You're the English teacher!" She gaped, at a loss for better words. A confused look settled on her face. "What happened to Mrs. Johnston? She's been the English teacher for years!"

"It seems that the baby wanted to come out earlier than expected. She's on maternity leave. They needed a last minute English teacher." He simply, still giving her a small smile—apparently amused.

"She was only two months pregnant before summer."

"Like I said, it came earlier than expected," The Brit stated, still paused in the middle of the hallway, looking dumb just standing there, frozen. At least that's how Singapore saw it, "Are you seriously going to miss the first English class of this year because you don't believe I'm the instructor?"

She frowned. He was being serious. She followed him down the twisting hallway and down several flights of stairs in an awkward silence, until they finally got to the English classroom.

O.O.O.O

There was only about ten minutes left until the next period, but it was long enough to get everyone acquainted. Not that they didn't already know each other; England had just insisted on proper introductions.

Iowa stuttered through hers, blushing profusely at the attention she was getting, mainly from a cackling Megan, who kept twisting her words and whispering jokes to Logan and Claude. The latter of the two looked very much as though he might die of embarrassment at any moment, the Illinois didn't seem to notice, and kept on nudging him in the ribs, grinning madly.

While Samantha loved Illinois, the girl really had no tact.

After her major failure of an introduction, she sat back down next to Ohio, who proceeded to whisper how cute she was, making a small grin form at the corners of Iowa's mouth.

Months before, when she was too scared to talk to him, not even in her wildest fantasies could she imagine how sweet he could be. What, with all the rumors going around about him, and then how he looked- quite manly and a bit rugged- it was hard to realize he was actually a really nice guy.

Ohio calmly stood up, introduced himself, not that he needed to, everyone already knew who he was, since he was a former Underling, after all. He sat back down equally calm as before, leaning back into his chair.

You couldn't tell by looking at him now, his face held a serene expression, and his navy blue eyes were half shut, since he was too bored to stay awake throughout the entire class's introductions. No, you couldn't tell now, but he could be a fire when he wanted to. And it didn't take a lot to rile him up.

Her boyfriend laid his head on the desk, most likely asleep. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for anything of interest. Their teacher, England, was engaged in a rather angry conversation with Singapore. Though, he spoke English, and she spoke in what seemed to be Chinese, though she could pick out several words she could understand. Wondering distantly what the girl and he were arguing about as England never actually stated what it was, she observed a fight nearly breaking out between Megan and Lisette. _Probably over Flanders_, she thought distantly. Actually, since the two girls were rather loud, it was definitely over Flanders, who looked positively mortified at the attention he was getting.

Iowa figured she wouldn't torture the poor boy by giving him unwanted attention, so she settled instead to changing her gaze every few minutes. The bell finally rang, and Iowa stood up slowly, while Ohio hurried away to his next class. She frowned, but ignored the lonely feeling she got walking down the halls alone. Illinois had the next class apart from her, and it was in a separate building, so they couldn't even walk together.

She was used to being alone. Right?

O.O.O.O

Wallonia tripped. This was fairly odd, since she never tripped, even in her tallest pair of heels. Must have been that weird "Big Sister" Illinois, right? That girl had it out for her, obviously, so it _had _to be her!

She only wanted to sit by her brother, because it felt like he'd been avoiding her all day and that was not then that bothersome American had refused to give up her seat. Refused! Ugh, the nerve of some people. Not that Wallonia felt entitled to get everything she wanted, though she should, but that girl really should have let her sit next to Claude.

Lisette tried to push her snobbish thoughts to the back of her head. She was really beginning to sound like a total brat, even inside her head, and that wasn't something she wanted to happen.

That's when the handsome boy had shown up. He looked concerned- like, honestly, properly worried for her. And it sent little bubbles of happiness throughout her body.

"You alright?" He asked, holding out a hand- which she took gratefully, mood now blissful. It was lucky, all right. Lucky that such a good-looking boy also happened to be polite enough to offer a girl a hand up when someone tripped her- Illinois - Oh, how lucky that they met!

Wallonia was silently plotting out the many ways she could ensnare him—of course she wanted him, he'd been the first to show interest, though—when he interrupted- not in a rude way, in a very cute-boyish way- "Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

She nodded, trying her best to look injured. With how much she'd seen of his behavior by now, he'd offer to take her and- "D'ya want me to help you there? I mean, I don't really care or anything..."

She wrapped her arm around his waist, nuzzling into his shoulder, and taking in his scent, "please and thank you.'

He blushed a bit at the contact, trying his best to shift away from her and keep his arm around her shoulders at the same time, "Erm... Yeah."

As the two made their way down the hallway, several people looked at them glaringly, especially the one who the handsome boy smiled at. Lisette noticed the girl was gorgeous, with long, almost-white hair and a round, innocent face.

The blonde- who was at least a sophomore- was standing next to two girls who were obviously freshmen. One of them was another blonde, with one green eye and one blue. Her long blonde hair was loosely braided, and the older blonde had her fingers tangled in it a bit. The other was a rather startled looking kid, with dark blue glasses in front of dark brown eyes. Everything about the girl was very cute, and she suddenly felt jealous that the boy was looking at two cute girls instead of her. She was practicably hanging off of him, and he wasn't even paying her any attention!

So she did the first thing that came to mind. She tripped slightly, and let out a loud yelp, "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

He looked at her frantically, wide-eyed, "What happened?"

She faked a wince. Its not like she wanted to lie to him, but it was necessary in the plan she had. Although half of the plan was made as she went along it was best to keep him interested now, it would definitely help in the long run, "I-I think I hurt my ankle even worse..."

"Erm... D'ya need me to uh, carry you? That's kind of..." His cheeks flushed slightly. This made her chest flutter. Oh, he's so cute, she thought, and his perfect hair and those gorgeous navy blue eyes are just so...!

"Y-Yes... Is that alright?" Wallonia asked, putting on her best innocent face. He looked the type to dig cute girls.

"I guess. I don't really care..." He muttered, awkwardly holding out his arms to her.

She stepped into him, gingerly on her foot, though it didn't actually hurt. She could've sworn his face turned purple from the blush, but it went back to its normal color after a second or two.

She thoroughly enjoyed being carried bridal style, while he almost collapsed from her weight- not that she was fat, she was just tall for a girl. When they finally reached the infirmary set her down carefully, making sure she didn't accidentally put pressure on her "hurt" foot.

"Well, I think it's almost time for the next class," he said after a moment.

Wallonia nodded, almost asking for his name. But she would almost definitely see him in the days that followed, so she kept quiet, hoping to intrigue him.

But he left, so she watched him retreat down the hall. She turned her head, wondering what she'd say the next time she saw him. Maybe invite him to lunch, or bake him some waffles. Didn't Americans have this thing called a brownie? Oh yeah, Flanders and Netherlands seemed to enjoy those a lot, though they always seemed hungrier after they ate them...

Her thoughts were interrupted when she looked up to see two girls staring at her; a thin girl with fiery, untamed red hair and rather dark clothing, and the other girl had wavy brown hair. Both were sitting on beds, though the brunette had her fingers wrapped in a splint, the other girl had a bandage wrapped tightly around her head, and looked a bit dizzy.

"I'll erm, just be going..." Wallonia mumbled, before sprinting out of the room, and down the same hallway she'd watched her Dream Boy hurry down just moments before. She would've stayed in the clean room for a while, just to take a nap, though she'd missed an entire class already. But the reason she left was because the redhead's eyes had bored into her, as though she knew Wallonia had tricked the boy into carrying her there.

And that fact made her uncomfortable.

**A/N~ Who is this mysterious stranger? Why were Michigan and Northern Ireland injured? Will Lisette's dreams of love be fulfilled? Does anyone even care? ... Probably not... **

**Daaaaaaaannnnngggg. Okay, sorry if I bored the crap out of you. I tried to at least mention everyone's character. If I missed you, you'll probably get a waayy bigger part in the next chapter. Stay awesome. **

**Peace out, **

_**VstavajSonce**_


	3. Freshmen: Part One

**A/N~ Hallo! Yet another chapter in this painfully 'exciting' series! Thanks to all of you, and I'm very, very sorry this is so_ late! _Also, not sure if everything from the last chapter resolved in this, and I'm too lazy to check.**

**This chapter is centered on the freshmen, who are: Jakarta (the All-American Asian), Medan (NadiaMiki), Michigan (DuctTape980), New Jersey (Tabby-tan), and my very own OC: Alaska—Kathryn Rose. (Though, she's actually just leading them around, since she's a sophomore.)**

**And, I'm totally going to ignore class order, since it wasn't working for the story. Sorry guys. **

**DISCLAIMER (Since _someone _insisted I do one): Character's belong to their respective owner's. No profit is being made from this, and Hetalia (sadly) belongs to Himaruya and not me. **

**Without further ado, I give you this chapter~! Hope I did the characters' justice!**

O.O.O.O

New Jersey glanced around the gymnasium nervously. Not that she was, actually. Nervous, that is. Her emotions were somewhere between excited and frightened. Not that she would actually be frightened of something as big and ancient as the school, that is. As if.

She was just impatient, was all. This was added to the fact that D.C. wasn't there, and she couldn't catch a glimpse of anyone she knew well and her heart—damn that thing—was thumping so hard in her chest that she could hardly think.

So, she retreated. Though it wasn't really a retreat, she just walked into another room. And she sat, and waited. And would have continued to wait, if it wasn't for Alaska.

The perpetually happy girl had rounded up a group of two other girls, neither of them looked very happy to be in the girl's strong grip. But it wasn't as though she'd be letting go soon, "I'll lead you all to your classes, yes? Follow me now," Then Alaska gestured to a small grouping of seats, near the podium in the middle of the gym.

She continued talking, rather fast and very excitedly, but none of the girl's were paying attention, "—sit here, you two. New Jersey!" The girl's head snapped up, messy blonde hair flaying around her, "Erm… What?"

Alaska giggled, looking slightly frightening "You will sit by me~!" She gently yanked the girl down to her seat by her arm.

New Jersey sat. And sat. And sat. Until _finally_ the teachers were done with their ranting, and a boy who looked to be around sixteen walked behind, and cleared his throat. And Allison decided inwardly that he was the best dressed in the _entire _school. This was something, considering that the Runner-Up—or, at least she was to New Jersey—was sitting a few seats away, her red hair framing her lightly freckled face. Her human name wasn't one that Allison could actually remember, but the girl claimed to be _French _Britain. And Allison could vaguely remember hearing her and some Scottish city arguing about it.

From behind her in the bleachers, she heard several people shout, "Watch it!" or, "Stupid girl!" and various thumps, maybe a body falling down the stairs. New Jersey grimly hoped they deserved it.

Then she turned her head. It was just a very slight movement, and noticed Illinois. New Jersey sighed, and faced the speaker head on, while Illinois impatiently gritted her teeth in the corner of her eye.

There was some shouting she tried—and failed—to block out, and then she was ushered by Alaska to one of her classrooms, which was a shame, because the Speaker-Boy had a very nice looking bracelet-thing, and she wanted to know where he got it.

And now Alaska was hurrying the three of them down the halls. And Jakarta—she'd picked the girl's name up somewhere along the way—was tripping over herself in a hurried attempt to catch up with them. It was actually rather funny if you watched her catch herself, then walk three or four wide steps, loose her footing, and try to catch her self again.

New Jersey smiled widely at her group, silently laughing at herself for being so nervous earlier.

Like the First Day of School could be anything but awesome.

O.O.O.O

With Alaska leading them around, it wasn't as though they could stop and take a breath. Michigan wasn't sure how she managed to actually do it; lead them from class to class, then make it back to hers, then go get them, lead them again, and do it all talking a mile a minute.

Suddenly, Alaska released her clasp on New Jersey's hand, much to the smaller girl's delight, and spun around to the rest of the freshmen, grinning ear to ear.

"Physical education," she started, her voice revealing her excitement, "Is the one and only class I excel at!" She was let out a squeal of delight, "And, since I've free period before lunch, Teacher said I could participate with all of you!"

Michigan sighed deeply, running a hand through her tangled, auburn hair. Alaska and her constant talking with only one breath for every god-damned thing she ever wanted to convey to anyone, _ever_, and her stupid pink bracelets and stupid girly-girl mannerisms. Everything about the girl was beginning to rub her the wrong way, and Michigan wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to take it.

Given, when she first laid eyes on the group she'd expected nothing less, but she'd gotten on quite well with New Jersey and Jakarta, and there wasn't anything wrong with Medan, but Alaska was still interrupting every other thing she said with her chattering, and Michigan had said nothing.

Mainly because without her, she'd be completely lost in the school's many hallways, but that was beside the point!

While she was thinking, Alaska had already moved the rest of the girls into the locker room, and was tugging on Michigan's wrist, trying to get her to move, and fully yanking her from her thoughts.

The locker room was lavish, and to Michigan, about a thousand times too _girly_. Nearly everything was pink, though all different and accenting shades, mind you. There were several full body mirrors lining one wall, and the other wall was showers, hidden behind frilly, pink and white curtain. The lockers were this dark shade of reddish-purple that Michigan personally didn't think was too bad.

And then, awkwardness started. New Jersey and Alaska didn't hesitate in immediately changing, stripping down to their bras and panties. (Polka dots and stripes, respectively.)

The other two followed their example, but Michigan stood there awkwardly until everyone had already cleared the room before changing. Seriously, it was too embarrassing to just _strip_ in front of anyone. Especially so if she'd only just met them, or hardly knew them at all. It wasn't as if she was ashamed of her body, it was just… so… _odd _to do that!

She changed quickly, though, and tied her slightly knotted hair up in a messy bun, and then entered the gymnasium.

Several boys were already there, and she noticed a few of them weren't even freshmen. This, she though glumly, was definitely not going to be enjoyable. The teacher introduced himself as 'Turkey', and when asked by a small, frail-looking girl if he meant the bird, he went on an eleven minute rant about how the bird was named after him.

With thirty-four minutes left to the class, he assigned them partners (She'd gotten paired with a girl who'd yet to introduce herself, though was obviously not a freshman), and announced they were going to play dodge-ball.

O.O.O.O

Medan's day, for the most part, had gone swimmingly. There was the small part when she thought that the Alaskan girl had totally forgotten to pick her up from class, but that was actually just a misunderstanding.

She was standing in the corner of the locker room, adverting her gaze from the two girls who were peeling their uniforms (Though the smaller one was just wearing a gray T-shirt and the issued skirt instead of the whole outfit) off, letting them slip to the floor in a heap.

She realized halfway through that it was just other girls in the room, and followed their example in changing their clothes. Jakarta noticed this moment before she did, and changed as well.

The gym was full of freshman and older students alike- Most of which were now sitting on the floor and chatting with each other out of boredom.

Medan didn't know anyone other than Jakarta from the class—other than the ones she'd been traveling with all day; but they were either busy or unfriendly.

So, she settled with sitting on the cleanest bit of floor she could find, with her back against the wall, observing the class. She noticed that Alaska was braiding New Jerseys' hair, while the smaller girl struggled to get away without yanking her hair, all while Michigan was trying to ignore a very happy looking Hispanic girl.

The Hispanic girl's arm was linked with a boy with dark, dark hair. He looked around her age, but she couldn't be sure.

Then their teacher, a man called 'Turkey' had appeared out of no-where. She debated asking him if it was a magic trick, but decided against it, since he looked rather intimidating. When a girl—she recognized this girl from a meeting, but couldn't remember who she was—asked him if he was named after the bird, he yelled. And yelled. And yelled. He continued yelling for a very long time, and by this time, the majority of the class had been talking loudly amongst themselves.

After his rant, the teacher—still red-faced—announced that they'd be playing dodge-ball, and that they'd be playing a revised version of dodge-ball. He paired them up, and explained that the purpose of their partner's was that they'd watch out for each other, and that when one of them was hit, they'd both go down, so the game went faster.

Medan and Jakarta had been paired up, which was nice, since they knew each other well. A brown haired girl with an Irish accent introduced herself as Belfast, Northern Ireland, and was immediately paired with Michigan, who had been quiet the entire class.

Alaska was paired with New Jersey, and Alaska immediately gave the girl a bone-crushing hug. Medan wondered if the two had suddenly become the best of friends when she wasn't looking, and then she became a bit jealous, since she had yet to become friends with anyone at all, and certainly not _best _friends.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a ball flying past her head, almost hitting her. Michigan yelled from behind her about, "Head shots don't count! So, no worries!" But Nadia wasn't listening to her. She was much more interested in the girl who was smiling happily, but maybe slightly psychotic. She was throwing balls as fast as the black-haired boy behind her was supplying her with them. Both were completely ignoring their partners, who banded together, ditching their partners as well.

Medan wondered who ignored who first before she was hit in the gut by a ball.

O.O.O.O

Jakarta had thrown three balls, all of which were successful, before Medan got them sent to the bleachers. She'd apologized, but it wasn't needed. She'd much rather watch than participate, since she had a headache anyway. 

Watching the balls all go back and forth was a bit entertaining, though after a moment, it only made her headache worse. Now feeling nauseous, she excused herself to the nurse's office, only to hear a shrill shriek as she left the room. She turned hurriedly, worried that a classmate had been hurt.

Her suspicions were immediately confirmed by the sight of Michigan out cold on the floor next to her partner, whose finger was looking a bit swollen.

She hurried across the gym again, rushing to the scene. The rest of her classmates shied away a bit from the sight of the blood pooling from her head. Medan was looking rather pale now, most likely because one of the girls had such a high pitched shriek, and Miyo's fellow city had surprisingly gentle hearing.

Turkey had somehow managed to slow the bleeding when she was paying attention to Nadia and now had the girl's bloodied head in his lap.

He barked some order's at the students, who rushed off into the hallway in search of something. And it all came rushing to her; that the grumpy girl was seriously hurt—that she could possibly be hurt _forever_ and that there was so much blood. There was panic, there was order, and they class was somewhere in between.

Miyo's headache worsened. Turkey looked up at her expectantly, "Did you hear me or not, girl? Take this one to the infirmary, with you! Now!" He nudged Belfast roughly, and she stood up, now staring at her swelling red-and-purple finger.

"Jammed it, a bit—my finger, I mean," She said as they walked off, her head still looking back at her partner.

"Do you think she's alright?" Jakarta asked, a bit nervously, also looking back.

"I think she'll be fine. At least, in the long run. She might have a concussion or whatever happens when you're knocked out like that…"

"What happened, anyway?"

Belfast sighed, walking ahead, "Jammed my finger blocking a ball, and then lost my footing, you see." Her frown deepened, "She was right behind me, yeah? Then…" She trailed off.

"So you fell on her…?" Jakarta continued, slightly confused.

"…No… She—She, well, she tried to catch me, but she tripped backwards and then she… She hit her head rather hard on the water fountain…"

Miyo nodded at the girl, unsmiling. They continued on their walk, speaking of whatever came to mind. It was a friendly atmosphere, and the girl's found themselves enjoying the other's company quite thoroughly.

"When she wakes up, do you think she'll remember what happened?"

"I hope not," Miyo laughed, "She may try to kill you." She was rewarded with Belfast's loud giggle, which turned into uncontrollable laughing, which lead her to snort—rather loudly, mind you. Miyo erupted into a fit of laughter as well, at that. Several minutes passed with them tossing playful banter back and forth, still laughing, until they actually reached their destination.

Jakarta smiled brightly at the girl as they joked. Finally, she thought, first friend of the year!

O.O.O.O

When Michigan awoke, her vision was blurry. And her head _hurt_. When her gaze focused more, she sat up. This was a very bad idea, and her head throbbed even harder, and as she clutched her head to try and subdue the pain, her fingers felt wet.

She drew back her hands quickly at the feel of the sticky liquid and looked back. Telling only by its metallic smell alone, Michelle knew it was blood. Was it hers, or…? Of course it was hers! She decided, since she was in a completely white room, with people talking in hushed voices, she could hardly remember a thing, and her head was _pounding_!

She looked to her side, trying her best to ignore how her head hurt at her movement, and realized who was sitting on the bed next to hers. Of course one of them would be here.

Wait, what? Why would _either _of them be in the hospital—or was it the school infirmary? She couldn't figure which it was, and honestly, she didn't really care. All she wanted was to remember how the hell she'd gotten there, and when she could leave. Oh, and how to make her head stop _aching._

Both the girls looked very surprised to see her awake, and Michigan wondered if somehow she'd actually died and managed to revive herself and live again. If that was the case, she was lucky to be alive still, and that she no would no longer care about her headache.

But, of course, that wasn't the case.

O.O.O.O

Alaska was confused.

It wasn't as though it was the first time today she'd been a bit… _unsure _of what was going on around her, but it felt as though it really were. Two girls from her flock of freshmen were now in the infirmary, and she'd been paying too much attention to that adorable New Jersey to notice. She didn't blame it on Allison, though. It couldn't possibly be her fault that she was just so… so… _Cute_!

Oh, yes, she'd certainly noticed when Michigan was lying in a pool of her own blood with a pained Belfast leaning over her. Yes, she remembered that quite well. She knew the three had all gone to the infirmary, and she knew Michigan was still there, and she knew that Belfast was waiting for her gym partner to wake up so she could apologize or something like that.

And now she was standing outside the infirmary because she had absolutely no chance of finding Jakarta and leading her to the correct classroom in time. Apparently, she'd left the infirmary as soon as Sophie and she had gotten there, or…? She didn't care if that was the truth or not, because one of the girls under her care had gone missing! She had to find her.

And that was when she'd been tapped on the shoulder by none other than the Missing Girl: Jakarta.

"I was looking for you all…"

Alaska enveloped the girl in a bone-crushing hug, and felt Jakarta hug back. And now everything was alright! She'd be able to get them all to class on time, and have their teacher write her a note, and she'd be able to get everything done on time and—RIIIIIIIIIING.

Kathryn-Rose released her grip. The bell had rung. They were all late. They were all…

"Why don't we just skip? I mean, we did get 'lost' after all," New Jersey offered.

Jakarta nodded, "I don't think we should call it "skipping". We actually are lost… Kind of…" She looked up at Alaska, waiting for a reaction.

Alaska smiled back down at the girl, and turned to New Jersey, reaching out to play with the other girl's hair, "How do you all feel about exploring a bit?"

"Alright." The two cities nodded, and walked at a leisurely pace down the hallway.

A few minutes passed, and they chattered quietly, trying to keep away from teachers and other students in general. Alaska still played with New Jersey's hair, braiding it and such, while the shorter blonde trying to push the other girl away without prevail.

Alaska suddenly stopped giggling as her head snapped up and fixed at the couple standing in the middle of the hallway.

Her hands, still tangled in Allison's hair, were now balled into fists, but she ignored New Jersey's yelp, and continued glaring at the dark-haired boy in the hallway.

He smiled brotherly at her, and held his hand up in a sort of wave, and the girl standing next to him scowled at their group, and tripped.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" She yelped, her grip on the boy tightening, and she sneered at the girls as his attention was brought to her.

"What happened?" He blue-eyed boy asked worriedly, betraying his true emotions, though he'd tried his best to remain indifferent with the sandy-haired girl.

Alaska growled. Actually growled. Her blood was boiling, and her grip on Allison's hair only tightened, and she mumbled, so quietly that only Allison could hear, and she didn't even mean to, "Damn that Ohio."

O.O.O.O

**A/N~ So….? What d'ya think, guys? Is it as awesome as I hope it is? Oh, yeah. There's a total love-triangle going on with Iowa and Wallonia. Over Ohio. Because I'm like that~! **

**And I added the reason why the two were in the infirmary, and know you all know who she was talking about when Wallonia went in there, and then ran out.**

**Oh, and this is the second-longest thing I've ever written! I'm so happy~! You guys make sure to stay awesome, alright?**

**Peace out,**

_**VstavajSonce**_


	4. Sophomores: Part One

**A/N~ Hallo! Another 'riveting' tale from my exciting series. I'll admit it, this chapter's a bit slow, but pleasepleaseplease forgive me. I'll most likely update twice today, so yeah. But feel free to hate me for not updating sooner. Real life is _not _fair. **

**Okay, I'll stop bugging you with apologies and excuses, and get on with the chapter.**

**Sophomore Class' First Day. Class includes: Bohemia_; _Malaysia; Cartagena; Minsk; Belfast; Andalusia; Dublin; Gauteng; and Alaska. Thanks to you all for putting up with me this long. **

**Oh, and as a side-note, four to a table/dorm. In case that wasn't clear. And they're in Sophomore English, which is why Mister England isn't their teacher, but some random flirty guy, because they teach different grades. Herpa derpa.**

**Happy reading~!**

O.O.O.O

He was lost, for sure this time. The last twenty minutes had consisted of several seniors giggling at the "Ikle Firstie" in their respective languages, and him walking around, trying to find the right classroom. He didn't bother correct the girls who said he was a freshman—mainly because it was just as easy for him to get lost as it was for any new student

The boy figured, since he knew what his classes were, he would bother one of his classmates (perhaps an upperclassmen—he was familiar with several) to direct him through the complicated school website and print out the map. He just couldn't figure out how to use that damn computer—though it seemed everyone in the entire world could. Especially that senior—what was her name? Oh, Osaka. Yes, she was much better with technology than anyone else he knew of.

Bohemia had walked down another flight of stairs—it was at least the third time he'd done so in the last few minutes—before he noticed that there was a large, wooden door several feet in front of him. Outside of it, he could just barely make out the figure of a garden. Catching his interest, he pushed the heavy door open, relishing in the bright light that warmed his skin.

He was wrong, though. It wasn't a garden. Well it might have been, decades before. But now it was a terribly overgrown patch of land, just outside a thick line of trees. Bohemia smiled; it looked as though he was the only one who knew—or remembered—that this place existed.

He walked further outside, the gravel, which had been slightly overgrown with low-growing leaves, crunched underneath his feet. Bohemia neared the end of the path, wondering distantly whether it had been overgrown as well, or if this was actually as far as it went. Pushing some troublesome and thorny bushes away to let him pass, he stumbled into the trees.

After what seemed like forever, he came upon what looked like an old, crumbling observatory. The walls were being split open and were covered almost completely by green, thriving vines. The actual building—an ancient tan, stone building—was hardly visible. He grinned, thinking of what a promising prospect this was. Getting lost had turned out much better than he had expected.

O.O.O.O

Cartenga was, to put it simply, absolutely gorgeous.

Many people, mainly teenagers of the male variety, had taken note of this—including some very jealous girlfriends, though that was beside the point.

The girl, smiling cheerfully, ignored the puzzled look on her partner's face, as she rambled on about her childhood—when she'd been founded, wars and all that basic history, and all with the same, radiant grin on her face

And this was the first thing he—Andalusia; Amancio Carriedo—noticed about her. He entered the classroom one moment too late, and, as expected, there were few seats left. And while the girl chatted loudly with an Eastern European boy—Russian, perhaps—she was one of the more peaceful students, and he didn't feel much like being around the group of gossiping Nordics, nor the cluster of rather glum-looking girls, and one boy, that glared and shouted at anything that moved. Yes, the seemingly cheerful girl seemed his best bet, since she ignored him for the pale boy beside her.

He hadn't expected that he'd be paired with her—the natural beauty beside him—for the first project of the year, and decided that he must have done something to please God that day—seeing as how nothing had gone wrong since the minute he woke up, except that there hadn't been any cinnamon rolls left when he'd made his way down to the meal room from his dorm.

She chattered on, laughing occasionally at herself, and sometimes asking him questions, which he mainly ignored, since the first three times he tried to get a word in, she interrupted him with another story.

They seemed to completely stray off the real meaning of the project—which was to introduce your partner after conversing for half the class, but he had hardly introduced himself when she began. He could hear the boy beside them—the one she'd been talking to before they'd been paired up—talking quietly to the Irish girl, Belfast, about his house in Belarus. Ah, so he wasn't Russian, after all.

Suddenly, Cartenga stopped chattering for a moment, and tilted her head to the side, "What was your name, again? You know, I saw you at the beginning of class, and I wanted to talk to you, but I was too busy with Pavel—Oh, I mean Minsk." She grinned again, "So I do know you? Don't I?"

He offered a small smile, "We met when we were younger."

She laughed, "Of course! You're always with everyone else~!"

He almost questioned who 'everyone else' was, but she started speaking again, "So, your name? Othello? Oh, Lucas wasn't it?" He shook his head, but she wasn't paying him any mind, "I'm Juana Gonzales Cayon! Pleasure to meet you... Again." She laughed at herself rather loudly, earning the pair a glare from the other members of their class.

"Andalusia." He stated, his voice sounding somewhat bland in comparison to hers. She shook her head, her long brown hair falling forward and past her shoulders, "No. No, I mean your _human_ name."

"Carriedo. Amancio, Carriedo." Some of his raven colored hair fell over his green eyes, shielding them from her sight.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Amancio Carriedo!" She said once more, grin as bright as ever.

The bell rang—its sharp sound piercing their ears. It seemed as though class wasn't really for working, after all.

O.O.O.O

It was fair to say that Sophie Kirkland was utterly and completely annoyed.

This class, obviously a favorite to the rest of her class (Only because they could gossip and flirt while the lesson was going without getting in trouble) irked her to no end. It was physically impossible to pay any attention while every other person in the room is—as that girl Illinois would say- "getting their funk on." No matter what context that was in, Belfast noted, it always sounded creepy.

Not only had the hormonal students surrounding her, but the teacher now given up all hope on finishing the first lesson of the year, and was now laughing at whatever vague attempt at flirting one of the girls had tried.

Sophie had not been having a good day. Not one aspect had turned out the way she wanted it to—mainly her roommates. One had left directly after dawn, so she wasn't sure where she went—just that she had shown up to classes looking extremely exhausted, and yet still smiling ridiculously. Belfast wasn't exactly sure where the girl—Alaska—had been, and wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Her roommates—a talkative and tan-skinned girl, who introduced herself as "Juana Gonzales Cayon of Cartagena", (She was as painfully bright as Alaska, and a permanent grin had etched itself to her near-flawless face.) and Mosa Ndebele; Gauteng— she was a mild-tempered girl, probably the quietest of the group, until she went out to the soccer pitch—because then she was utterly, and completely mad.

The person next to her, a dark-haired boy with pale skin and cold eyes spoke quietly to her roommate, Cartagena. There was only about a half hour left to the class, and that was when their teacher decided to actually assign them something—without actually assigning them something.

"Be prepared to introduce your partner next class," he said, then promptly ignoring the rest of the class for the cute brunette—she recognized her, but wasn't exactly sure who she was—that had tried flirting with him earlier.

She turned to the boy, offering him a smile, which he did not return immediately, as though he were cautious of her. "Hello. I'm Belfast—but, since we're school-mates and all… You can just call me by my human name—Sophie. Sophie Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you, um…" Her smile, which she had been trying to hold steadily, faltered slightly by the meek look on his face.

"Minsk. Pavel, if you like," He mumbled, his low voice was completely monotone, and she couldn't deny he was a bit of-putting. He had kind eyes, though, which is why she kept on smiling.

"That's Byelorussian, right?" She asked, looking down to their table, now doodling fairies in the margins of her spiral notebook.

He nodded, which she could see from the corner of her eye. "That's nice. Don't know much about the place, though. What's it like?" She was occupied, though, with her drawings, but Minsk replied anyway, "Well, my house is…"

She tuned him out, without necessarily meaning to, of course. When she finally looked up, Cartagena—who was sitting at their table—beside Pavel—was loudly talking about what kind of foods she ate during winter and Minsk had a small smile playing on his lips, and his eyes flickered between his partners. The rest of the class had reverted to gossiping idly, and the boy at the edge of the table—she didn't even recognize him, much less know his name—seemed to actually respond.

Sophie smiled at them, and laid her head down on her desk. If Minsk was still talking… it wouldn't matter if she could go to sleep for just a little bit… and her roommates had kept her up all night…

…

RIIIIING.

O.O.O.O

Malaysia stumbled into the room just as the bell rang, signaling tardiness. Smiling at what seemed like the first lucky thing to happen that day, she sat down in the only empty seat left. The entire class wasn't paying attention to the lesson the teacher was trying his best to give—something about a 'Greetings Essay', but he gave up ten minutes in, and resigned himself to flirting with one of the girls in the front of the class. This, by the way, honestly freaked her out.

The boy sitting beside her was fumbling around with something behind two propped-up notebooks, and while she was intrigued, she was still cautious enough to not pester him for details.

She stared down at her notebook, and her half-attempt at notes. The boy beside her was mumbling something, and while it was incoherent, it was defiantly menacing. Subtly, she inched her chair to the edge of their shared table, bumping arms with the girl on the other side of her.

She had a dark, tan skin tone, and her wild and frizzy dark brown hair was pulled back away from her face by a scarlet headband. She looked over at the smaller girl, and smiled softly, before going back to her work—which actually just looked like a bunch of circles and lines, but she didn't care much to ask what it actually was.

Several minutes later, and after much dozing, and half-amusedly watching their teacher flirt with the girl at the front, their teacher straightened up and announced to the class that they would be introducing their partners ("the person sitting next to you at your table") the next class.

Alaska, who was sitting on the other side of the mumbling boy, started to talk immediately after the last words came from the instructor's mouth. He looked irritated, but he didn't say anything, at least, not that she could hear.

The girl next to her—Gauteng, as she introduced herself as—turned out to be more than just a nice girl. She was, to put it as simple as possible, amazing. For one, she had founded and maintained the Soccer Team—Football Team, she insisted, though it was officially the Soccer Club—and planned on being their Class Representative—Though Alaska was also a shoe-in, since she spent so much time caring for the younger students—and honestly, a very sweet person underneath all of the titles and aspirations.

Her human name was Mosa Ndebele, as Malaysia now had special permission to call her. She was a county in South Africa, and had smiled widely when Nur introduced herself in turn.

The rest of the class was spent in relative peacefulness, an occasional laugh, or smile, and here or there a fight would break out somewhere in the classroom and would be quickly broken up.

And, by the end of the class period, it seemed obvious that they were now friends—or, at least, friendly roommates.

**A/N~ I'm terrible, and awful, so—feel free to hate me. Anyone who didn't get that big of a part this chapter will get a bigger one in either of the next two. I'm sorry this update is sososo late. One thousand apologies. Stay awesome.**

**Peace Out,**

_**VstavajSonce**_


	5. All Characters With Brief Descriptions

Singapore: Senior. Stoic, doesn't like to take other seriously, hates England openly, but has a school-girl crush on him.

Iowa: Junior. Really busty, but short. She thinks lowly of herself, and loves getting attention from boys. She's sweet and caring with people she likes, but turns into a wicked and manipulative girl with people she dislikes. She's head over heels in love with Ohio, and would do most anything for him. Her best friends are Illinois, Wisconsin and Galway

Bohemia: Sophomore. A very old-fashioned sort of guy. He doesn't like newer technology, and refuses to learn how to use computers, so he doesn't fit in well. He's studious and introverted, and is a bit anti-social. He plays the cello in the old and abandoned Observatory at the edge of the school property.

Jakarta: Freshman. She's an adorable girl who enjoys the simpler things in life, and gets along really well with her sister, Medan. She isn't in a relationship, but she isn't against it, and likes to read romance novels and garden.

Campania: Freshman. He's a short tempered boy, but is quite friendly if you catch him in a good mood. He has a tendency to get on long-winded rambles if he isn't stopped before, but he doesn't talk all that much. He's handsome, and girls tend to flock around him because, well, he's cute.

Colorado: Sophomore. She's typically calm and collected, but if she's interested in something, she'll wind herself up more and more to the point where she's jumping up and down and giggling with excitement. It doesn't take a lot to annoy her, but she's normally pretty good about keeping her temper in check. She likes reading, and cooking, and likes the idea of a romance, but thinks that they have to be friends first to make it work.

Osaka: Senior. She keeps herself cool and polite at all times, even if she really just wants to hit them. Though, it's a bit hard for her to warm up to people—she doesn't trust easily, she's far too old for that—she's a talkative, cheerful girl underneath. You can become her friend easily, but gaining her trust in another matter entirely. She likes Tokyo (in a romantic sense, as they're a couple, and octopus, because they're yummy and cute.)

Cartagena: Sophomore. She's a big ball of pure energy. She loves dancing, talking, making friends, and singing. Everything about her is bursting with her love of life, and she attracts people like a moth to a flame. She's probably the friendliest person you're ever bound to meet, but she's also painfully oblivious—as her best friend is in love with her, and she has no idea.

Minsk: Sophomore. He's a thin, dark haired boy who doesn't talk much, unless he's around friends. And by friends, I mainly mean Cartagena. He's a sweet sort of boy, who's got people's best interests at heart, though he's a tad bit competitive. He's in the process of learning Spanish, probably to get even closer to his crush, Cartagena.

New Jersey: Freshman. She's a cheerful, intelligent girl who spent most of her youth learning about the world around her. She's got a rather large temper, despite her small size, and hates it when people say she's leaching off the attention of others. She hasn't made any friends in the school yet, except for Alaska, but she's pretty close to the other states as well.

Michigan: Freshman. She's a loner, and somewhat of a rebel, though she doesn't do anything drastic, like some of her British classmates, (Harwich and Flintshire). She is normally quiet, but isn't afraid of standing up for what she believes in, and she hates bullying, as it is an injustice to the weak. She's also in the School Prefect Group founded by Virginia, because she was sick of all the people ganging up on little freshman—not including herself.

Belfast: Sophomore. A shy, independent personification, she likes to do things by herself. She dislikes it when people who are close to her fight, even if it's justified. She is normally classified by teachers as a delinquent, because she has a tendency to drink when she's stressed, and that's normally during test times. She really isn't, though, and after the initial shyness, she can become friends with just about anybody.

Medan: Freshman. A genuinely caring girl, she's a bit sensitive, and shy. She's close to her sister, Jakarta, and also likes gardening, cooking, and reading. She's in the Garden Club.

French Britain: Senior. She's France's big sister, though she's a bit humiliated, because he's now her technical guardian. She's sarcastic and a tiny bit bitter towards the English Personifications, but gets along fine with everyone else in Great Britain. She likes drinking, and the only time she's ever openly friendly is when she's drunk. She's also a flirt, and often goes through lovers quickly.

Jeju Island: Sophomore. She's like, a more masculine version of the-girl-next-door. She likes skateboarding, sports, and basically anything physical. She doesn't like frilly, girly things, which is bad, since her sister is Seoul, and is pretty much as girly as can be. The two get along well besides their differences, and care about each other a lot. She's pretty stubborn/blunt, and doesn't have many friends as a result.

Okinawa: Senior. She's silent, but she's pretty tom-boyish, despite her long, messy black hair. She's fairly sporty, and is a member of the Soccer (English Football) team.

Seoul: Sophomore. She's gorgeous, with big, dark eyes, and hair that's decorated with tons of different colors. She's bubbly and generally friendly, if not a bit conceited, but she's a good person to be friends with. If she gets worked up enough, she will be like a violent screech owl.

Glamorgan: Freshman. She's a possessive, ambitious girl, who will stop at nearly nothing to get what she wants. She's friendly the majority of the time, but she thinks somewhat low of herself, so she gets jealous easily, thinking that she'll be replaced. If she were a regular human, she'd probably have been scouted already; she's a wonderful actress.

Flintshire: Senior. He's grumpy and a bit stoic. He's protective of all his siblings, but especially Glamorgan, since she gets into the most arguments. He's a heavy drinker/smoker, and cusses like it's nobody's business. He doesn't like doing his homework, and he takes pleasure in screwing people over. His best friend is Harwich, and together they founded the Smoketeria.

Virginia: Senior. He's an ass, to but it bluntly. He's harsh, rude, and overall unfriendly. He is quick to criticize, and slow to praise, as well as seeming to take joy from crushing the dreams of others. He claims he's just a realist, though. He's a bit of a sore loser about the Confederacy, and is in a sort of war with his little sister Illinois about pretty much everything they ever said to each other ever.

Illinois: Junior. She's a fiery, bouncing ball of pure energy. She's probably mentally unstable, but that's just fine with her. She's so talkative and cheerful, she's fast to make friends, and she's also very fast to lose them by saying something stupid. She's rather popular despite this. She's known around the Academy for her habit of picking a random student and tugging them along with her, claiming they're her 'Favorites'. No one minds though, as all the 'Favorites' are granted one solid year of good luck. She dislikes Virginia's attitude, and challenges him at every opportunity. She likes people who speak up for themselves, which is why she abuses Wisconsin so much.

Dublin City: Sophomore. He's violent and constantly angry. Will go out of his way to pick a fight, and readily accepts any perceived challenge. If offended, will strike his enemy across the face and challenge them to 'pistols at dawn.'

Malaysia: Sophomore. She's a cheerful girl, who would rather go outside and play than stay inside doing homework. She's modest, and has a pretty big crush on England and is competing with Singapore for his affections.

Washington: Freshman. She normally stays silent and collected, though when she gets offended, she'll get violent. And she gets offended rather easily. She hates Twilight with her heart and soul, which is funny, because no one believes her. And then she gets angrier.

Oklahoma: Freshman. She's nervous around strangers, though she can handle herself in a fight fairly well. She's a bit innocent for someone as old as she is, though she was rather sheltered as a youngster. She's sentimental, and doesn't like throwing things out, or fighting with siblings. Unless it's Texas—but seriously, it's _Texas. _She wants to be different, and when you're in a family as big as hers, it's a bit difficult. But she doesn't let anything stop her.

Galway: Freshman. She's reserved initially, but she's quite the hyperactive prankster. She loves hanging out with her friends, and she surprisingly gets along well with Dublin—at least, it isn't a violent relationship—and really well with Edinburgh. She's not very sneaky about her schemes, and gets caught more often than not, whilst her friends tail it. She stands up for the weak and helpless, and she loves to make people smile. At the moment, she's trying to be romantically involved with Campania, who is surprisingly oblivious.

Edinburgh: Sophomore. He's hotheaded, though he isn't known for starting fights—only finishing them. He's a big sports fan, and is the Captain of the Soccer (English Football) Team. Despite being hotheaded, he's fairly laidback. He's a bit of a flirt, but is a total dork if he's around the girl he likes.

Berlin: Quite pessimistic with a sarcastic attitude. She may act cold and reclusive to strangers, but on the inside she really does care. Rebellious and gets on Germany's nerves. She isn't social, and is alone the majority of the time.

Hawaii: Freshman. A happy-go-lucky, bubbly, loud girl. She's popular amongst her fellow states, but is kind of unknown to the rest of the world. She gets on fine with several British Personifications, but pretty much hangs out with other Americans/Canadians. She's a bit nosy at times, but it's unintentional. She's a pretty loveable girl, overall.

Derbyshire: Sophomore. Reserved, and quiet almost all the time. She's shy when meeting new people and it only goes away partially when she becomes friends with someone. She's bookish, and likes drawing as well. She doesn't have many friends..

Tokyo: Senior. A laidback and silly guy. He gets excited like a child when he sees something cool, like a new video game, and he laughs a lot. He hates dogs, and loves cats, and is Osaka's boyfriend.

New Mexico: Freshman. He's a chatterbox. He's easy-going and rather laidback and he's got a lot of friends. His cheerful demeanor and optimism attract lots of people to him—everybody wants to be his friend. He's dating Portsmouth.

Portsmouth: Freshman. She's an English City, with blonde hair and thick eyebrows. She doesn't always do well under pressure, but she's friendly and cute, and she's dating New Mexico.

Wisconsin: Junior. He's a sweet, sensitive, world-weary boy who is deeply in love with Illinois—as his land was once hers, it's only right his heart belongs to her still—and is ignored by the majority of the school population. His best friend is Ohio, which is odd, seeing as how their personalities clash so oddly.

Ohio: Junior. He's a burly, tough boy with a fairly 'tsundere' attitude. He's friendly, when he wants to be, and he gets in fights over stupid reasons often.

Bucharest: Junior. He's a friendly, mysterious Romanian. Though he is Romanian, he swears he is neither a vampire, nor a vampire hunter, but his overly-large canines say otherwise. He doesn't have many friends, because he says odd things. A lot.

Harwich: Senior. He's a childish, irresponsible English city, who is best friends with Flintshire. He has a crush on French Britain, despite her being cold towards him. He's also close with Glamorgan, and teases her—and many other people—about a variety of things. Much like his Welsh friend, he smokes and drink heavily, and co-founded the Smoketeria.

Andalusia: Junior. He's a flirty, silly boy who likes taking naps, playing guitar, and dancing. He is very much into self-preservation, and is sure to run from a fight he knows he will not win. He gets along well with many people, and has a large group of friends, as well as many admirers. He switches from lover to lover often, and is currently after Iowa.

Ndebele: Sophomore. She's an artistic, independent kind of girl, who is a bit rash at times. She's down to earth, and understanding, as well as somewhat friendly, though she's a bit intimidating due to her tall stature, and many are afraid to confront her.

Hesse: Senior. He's sneaky and neutral. Not much is known about his personality, so it remains a mystery. He was formerly a hired mercenary, and some of those old habits show in his modern behavior.


	6. Girls Are Weird

A/N: OHEMMGEE, YOU GUYS. I'M SOSOSO SORRY FOR THIS LATE OF AN UPDATE. /dies.

Okay, I'm trying to update more—but some people keep bothering me about it when my muse is away, so this may seem hurried and stupid, because it is. I apologize, and when my muse returns, you shall have a very long, very nice update for your eternal patience and loyalty. Okay, enjoy.

Disclaimer (Because someone insisted I do one): I do not, nor will I ever, own Hetalia. The OCs belong to their creators, and everything else is made by yours truly~!

Oh, and as a warning, there is like, a lot of drinking (and smoking and cursing) in this chapter. But they're all of age—so it's cool.

O.O.O.O

The senior class didn't show up on the first day of school. The main reason being they were all too hung over to face the bright, shining sun, but also because the seniors tend to not care about the rules and regulations.

And, all the students knew this—they were required to attend the academy every forty years or so. They had all been seniors once (and would be, soon) so they knew very well what it was like to discard the rules and such. (It was liberating, really, to get out of classes freely, just because of your grade standing)

But, even knowing all of this, Oklahoma couldn't quite place the feeling she got when she was asked to retrieve the entire grade.

Not that she was nervous, no. She had her trusty bullwhip at her side, so no one could harm her. Physically, at least. She had no idea what disgusting things might lie beyond the Junior Class Dorm level.

As soon as she reached the top of the stairs to the fourth floor, she was overwhelmed by the horrid stench that greeted her, and wondered distantly how she couldn't have smelled it when she was just a few steps below it a moment ago.

She could've sworn she heard a baby crying, but dismissed the thought quickly, when she heard something more interesting. Down the hallway (a hallway strewn with empty bottles, cans, papers and various articles of clothing she didn't even want to think about how they got there) there was a very obvious argument going on behind a door that was slightly ajar, and she heard moaning.

It sounded like Korean, but now there was someone yelling over them in a horribly coarse voice in French.

Oklahoma peeked through the door, and was not surprised by what she saw. A boy on the floor, half naked, half painted, being poked by a busty Asian girl who was red in the face from yelling at someone she couldn't see. A furious redhead was shrieking like a banshee at the two of them, and a petite, dark haired girl sat on her bed looking very irritated at the rest of her companions.

She stepped in quietly, hoping not to be seen, to any avail. The redheaded girl stopped shouting the minute she walked in, and fixed a glare on her that could kill. 

"Hi," Maria said to the group, who were now eyeing her from head to toe. "HI, MARY." A voice chirped from behind her. She spun around on her heel, "What the…"

Texas grinned at her, "Miss me?"

O.O.O.O

It wasn't commonly known, but French Britain was a very happy drunk. This was very apparent to Flintshire as he watched her dance around on the roof of their dormitory. It was normally her special place, but he, being bored with all of the loud, sweaty partying, decided to follow her up.

The air was crisp and cool—perfect for their last summer night.

French Britain collapsed on the ground in a fit of mad giggling.

"Come—come sit with me," She laughed, patting the ground next to her. Flintshire frowned, though he complied. She immediately grabbed the flask from his hands and gulped it down, giggling even more.

He frowned when she handed it back to him, completely empty, but stayed quiet. _Well, it's better if one of us is at least sober-ish…_

"Can I have another drink?" She asked. Well, at least, that's what he thought she said—it sounded more like "Kemm I hash 'noth'r drunk?"

"You already drank it all," he mumbled, lighting up a cigarette.

She glared at him, "You'll get lung cancer." He laughed, "I don't care."

She took it from him swiftly and snuffed it out, then proceeded to toss it off of the edge of the roof, "Then who does?" She mumbled, slumping down against the railing, her face contorted with confusion.

"Who does what?" He asked, shoving his lighter in his pocket, and directing is attention to her again.

"Huh?" She blinked, "Oi! C'mere and lookit th' moon!"

He complied, ignoring the wicked grin on her face as he did so. The moon was nearly full, and though it wasn't quite autumn yet, it shone a brilliant light orange, making Gwenaëlle's already ginger hair shine an ever brighter shade.

"Hm," he lit another cigarette. She glared at him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a voice from behind them interrupted her before she could, "Rhys Adda, get're ass downstairs now!"

He looked over his shoulder to see a very drunk, very angry Glamorgan, standing just outside the entrance to the roof.

Her eyes flickered back to French Britain, then narrowed into a glare, "Go 'way, ginge." 

She laughed loudly, and linked her arm with Fintshire's, "Let's go get som'more drinks, shall we?" The walked past the younger girl, who glared at them both, crossing her arms, mumbling something along the lines of, "Go ahead and fall off the astronomy tower, drunkards…"

Girls are weird, is what Flintshire wholeheartedly decided. Drunk or not, girls are moody and weird.

O.O.O.O

When one looks at Virginia, one might think he's merely shy, but very sweet underneath his tough exterior. This is untrue. Although it's quite nice to think of him like that, it's best not to assume things, particularly with a person like him.

"YOU LOT, GET OFF THE DESK!"

"YOU TWO, STOP GIGGLING SO LOUDLY!"

"GOTT, TEXAS, DO YOU EVER SHUT YOUR MOUTH?"

All situations ended with him getting his way.

One must understand, though, Virginia is not a mean person, he is only expectant and demanding, and that sometimes gets in the way of being sociable. Actually, most times gets in the way of being sociable.

"… I think I can feel the hate waves over here…" Iowa mumbled, tasting some corn pudding on her plate. Virginia glared at the group of three from his place at the cafeteria, a table not far from theirs. Ohio shifted uncomfortably at his gaze and directed his attention to Illinois, who was glaring right back at Virginia.

"Crap, why did you insult the Confederacy…?" Ohio's blue eyes stared daggers at the tall girl, who had still yet to look at him.

"Because it sucked, and he needs to grow up," She stated plainly, taking a large gulp from her coffee cup.

"… Seriously? You're acting like a little kid—go apologize…" Ohio reasoned, somewhat desperately, as Virginia had been glaring at the three for several class periods.

"Pfft, as if! I'm the one who deserves an apology! He's been cursing at me in German all day!" She retorted, making a face at Virginia,

"You deserved it!" Ohio hissed, staring down at his plate.

"Please? Won't you apologize, for me…?" Iowa said, her eyes flickered to her boyfriend, and then back to the taller brunette.

"…" Illinois paused and looked at the other girl for a moment, who's large, round eyes blinked pleadingly. "I guess… But, if Ginny doesn't accept it, don't come crying to me."

Iowa had a small, satisfied smirk fixed on her face as Illinois stood to go towards the pale-haired man.

"…How do you do that?" Ohio asked, as Virginia and Illinois talked briefly, and she started to make her way back to their table.

"Do what?" She asked, innocent as ever, getting up from the table and slinging her bag over her shoulder casually.

A girl never reveals her secrets.

O.O.O.O

Virginia had not been expecting that. He expected, well he wasn't exactly sure, maybe for her to challenge him to a duel or something along those lines, but she had simply apologized. And now, she was waiting for him to say something.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could muster, and a flash of irritation made its way across her face, but she repeated what she said, "I'm sorry—I was being… _immature_."

"Well, I suppose I was, as well. You were just there for me to lash out at. Sorry," he finished curtly, and she gave a satisfactory smirk and turned away to her friends, leaving him feeling a bit… confused. Not entirely sure why she smiled like that.

It seemed as though it were really true. Girls are, most definitely, weird.

O.O.O.O

A/N: Wahh, thanks for putting up with me, ;A;


	7. What a Bore

**A/N: Wahoo~! Another wonderful update, because I'm just awful with timing. Anyhow, on with the ridiculousness! C:**

**Disclaimer: I will never, ever, ever own Hetalia—That's Himaruya's. Ocs belong to their creators, who I'm too lazy to write in here, and all this other shiznit belongs to yours truly~!**

**This chapter includes: Dublin, Portsmouth, Seoul, Okinawa, Hawaii, Campania, Colorado**, **Flanders, and Washington. (With a little Iowa/Ohio/Wallonia drah-mah on the side. ) And all the states are mentioned, I think.**

O.O.O.O

At this point, he was beyond irritated. How was it that some _stupid_ American got to do whatever she wanted—and he was just forced to sit still? His hand gripped his suitcase even tighter than before, and he gritted his teeth. Somewhere in the crowd were his brothers, and they'd nag him to death if he'd do something stupid. It was all too unfair.

Next to him sat a busty girl who'd been talking to what appeared to be her sister. Both were Asian, but they hardly resembled each other. One was simply normal, though her rust colored eyes were quite captivating. The other had a rather large chest—though not as large as that American girl's...what was her name? Oh, Iowa—and her hair was an array of colors ranging from black to pink.

They seemed to be talking about the Speaker, as his name popped up in their conversation every few sentences or so. He didn't understand what they were saying—not that he wanted to, anyway—but they seemed to be speaking Korean. He couldn't tell what language it was, but he didn't really care.

The speech ended quicker than he expected—the boy's stuttering and stumbling over his words had drew out the thing longer than it needed to go on. From where he stood—he'd been one of the first to hurry out of the gymnasium—in the crowd, he could see two of his roommates. New Mexico and Campania were talking near the front doors; they seemed to be weighing their chances of being able to sneak out without being caught.

Uninterested, he walked onward down the hurriedly emptying hallway. He had just reached the second floor landing when something small ran into him. He looked around, but saw nothing. A voice rang out.

"Hello! Err, have you seen a boy around here?" He looked up and saw a small blonde girl with thick, untrimmed eyebrows standing on the top of the staircase above. With her hands, she made out gestures, "About this tall, brown hair that's kind of messy—he's a bit of a slob... Oh, and he's wearing the Freshman's crest!" She said, pointing her finger at the emblem on the chest pocket of her navy blue blazer.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, smiling. "Hey there, Dublin! I didn't recognize you!"

"Roight."

"Well, have you seen him? We were supposed to go to class together, but we got separated in the crowds—I think he got lost."

"Oi dun' care, and no, Oi 'aven't seen 'im." he lied, and shoved past Portsmouth, who's expression was somewhere between offended and disappointed.

"Bollocks. Well, thanks anyway, Dublin. I'll see you 'round, I suppose." She walked down the stairs looking somewhat dejected.

He readjusted his hold on the suitcase as headed down the hallway to class once more.

O.O.O.O

When she'd woken up, she wasn't in a bad sort of mood—not at all. She had, in fact, only wanted to see her sister make some friends, and that alone was enough to make her cheerful. For the sake of her sister, of course.

But Seoul wasn't often in a bad mood; it didn't fit her personality to be. She was cheerful and bright, and, if compared to her sister, Jeju-Island, represented the light. He hair, streaked and dyed in different places, so that it made her look as a pop-star would, as her sister was a bit of a pessimist, and represented the dark. Her hair, which was naturally black, was dyed so that it was a deep, rusty sort of brown. Her eyes were stunning—that same, beautiful color, but very deep and very soft.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. They say the eyes reflect a person's true personality. They, of course, have not been yet acquainted with Jeju-Island.

Of course, this goes the same way for Seoul. Such a charming, warm-hearted girl with such cold, calculating eyes. They were a nice color as well, but her sisters could take one's breath away.

O.O.O.O

"Hey, hey, you! Boobs! Get up!"Seoul was shaken roughly from her sleep by a very cheerful-looking girl, who she recognized from the two days before. This being the second _real_ day at the Academy. Bright clover-green eyes gazed down at her from beneath a thin fringe of chocolate colored hair, "Come on Boobs! Get up!"

"...Boobs?" Seoul blinked, confused. The other girl, Colorado, laughed and yanked the other girl out of bed.

"Of course!" She said, nodding briskly, walking in a circle around the girl, chin in hand, "On account of those big ole' honkers there. And the fact that I'm awful with names. Heh..."

"...Al...right?" The colorful haired girl said, unsure, reaching into the large trunk at the foot of her bed. In it were several outfits, her books, a few notebooks, all the technology she owned and her uniform. She reached into the bottom though, and pulled out a makeup kit.

"You know," Colorado said, reaching into her trunk as well, and Seoul noticed it was crammed pack full of books of all kinds, her school outfit lazily tossed on the top, "I think you're pretty enough without makeup."

Seoul looked down at the small bag in her hands, and then at the full mirror attached to the wall opposite her. Her black hair was messy enough, from the sleep, but that could be fixed easily. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked steadily at her own reflection. She was right, she didn't need makeup. Setting the bag down in her trunk she brushed her hair out.

"Oh, your sister—at least, I think she is—came over really early this morning," Colorado said, tying her long brown hair back in a bun, and tossing some discarded books back into her truck. Seoul's gaze lasted a bit longer on the girl as she realized the girl was much prettier than she had originally though. Perhaps is was the fact that she had complimented her, but the girl was starting to look utterly lovely.

Seoul blinked her long lashed eyes and restarted their conversation, "Did she say what she wanted?"

Colorado shook her head, "Nope."

"Hm... I suppose I'll have to talk to her then."

O.O.O.O

She decided, when she first saw him, that he was probably the shortest personification she'd ever seen—and wondered, baffled, how he could even be old enough physically to attend the Academy.

"Aloha!" She smiled peacefully at him, beckoning for him to sit beside her on the bench, "I'm Hawaii~!"

He complied, though still not smiling, and sat with enough room in-between them so that a whole person could fit there. He hadn't spoken yet, so she tried, exited, to make him talk, "Where are you—I mean to say, what do you represent? I don't think we've met before."

"Campania." He answered curtly, resting his chin on the palm on his hand, waiting for the class to begin.

"Italian? Cool. Oh, why weren't you here for classes before. It's not the first day of school, well it's the second day that's normal, but, err, where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, why weren't you at school before?"

"I was," Campania answered, "I switched schedules."

Unsatisfied with such a simple answer, Hawaii pressed on, "Really? Why?"

"Because it's not your business, that's why."The shorter boy scowled, and Hawaii slumped over the desk, burying her face in her arms sleepily. It seemed like that was the best she was going to get out of him, though the information was a bit dull.

Bored, she sat up and began doodling flowers into the margins of her notebook, when she heard a commotion coming from the doorway.

"Oh, hello, Shirya, darling~!" A soft voice floated into the room, Hawaii recognized it immediately, "Aloha, Kat."

Alaska smiled from her place behind a very angry-looking New Jersey, whose scowl seemed to be permanently printed onto her face.

"Pupsik, don't look so upset!"Alaska laughed and New Jersey raised a fist as if to punch her. Though, Alaska's face bore a heavy resemblance to Russia himself, and her smile was a bit... Intimidating, at the least.

"Geez, leave me alone! I know where my classes are, you don't have to lead me around anymore," New Jersey pushed Alaska away with much more force than necessary, and left her standing by the doorway with Medan. New Jersey spun back around on her heel, "And _don't _call me pusik!"

Medan shifted, a bit uncomfortable, and glanced up at Alaska, who was still frowning at Allison. The tan girl smiled at Hawaii and made her way to her seat beside New Jersey, who was still fuming.

"She's still mad about you all having to do extra work this week?"Hawaii asked Alaska, who nodded, about to leave.

"I told her I couldn't help it if we all got caught skipping classes, but I don't think she likes to listen. Oh, Illinois wanted me to tell you that you needed to meet up in the old Art Room later. A meeting, I think. Can you pass this information onto the other states, please? I've kind of..."

Hawaii smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I got it. Awesome! Leave it to me, Alaska~!"

The blonde girl smiled and her eyes flickered between New Jersey, who was in a heated debate of some kind with Medan, and Hawaii, who had returned to doodling in her notebook.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Goodbye." She gave a little half-wave, and flounced from the room.

Hawaii looked down at the lined pages she'd been drawing on. In her scrawled handwriting, there were the states above her in grade standing, and the ones in her class. Illinois, Ohio, Iowa, New Jersey and Alaska had a thin, uneven line drawn through them, and the rest were just there, scribbled onto the page. She frowned, wondering who to tell first.

O.O.O.O

Okinawa sighed, walking into the library. It was, to no apparent surprise, empty. The reference section was near the door she'd just entered from, and she headed down the isle. 

The library, though for reading, was dimly lit, and gave off a somewhat eerie feel. Okinawa didn't mind, though, she was quite used to isolation. A few locks of hair fell into her face, as if blown by an unknown breeze, and when she pushed them away, she could see a book on the table in front of her. A book that hadn't been there before.

She reached out to touch the blank, worn, leather cover. Though, when she did, a shock ran through her body, and then she felt wonderfully numb. It only lasted for a moment, and when she touched the book again, she felt nothing but the rough cover. She picked it up cautiously, and opened it to the first page. In scarlet ink, spidery handwriting was scribbled across the page messily. It seemed to be notes—but a deeper look at it proved that it was secrets.

Secrets of all kinds. Ranging from secret relationships to hidden passageways around the school. From the look of it, it didn't belong to the school, so it technically wasn't stealing if she just... slipped it into her messenger bag and walked away, which, after a moment of internal debate, was exactly what she did.

O.O.O.O

If she encountered one more smart-ass who found it funny that she was the state in which Twilight (ugh) took place, she's snap someone's neck. Perhaps her own—then, she'd be spared the misery and shame.

The door to the Old Art Room was heavy and wooden, and splattered with dozens of colors. It was a friendly-looking place behind it, but Washington wasn't all that sure she wanted to walk in. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she looked over her shoulder, expecting to see a familiar face of a fellow American.

A tall boy stood in the doorway, with messy light brown hair and brown eyes. He was handsome, in a plain kind of way, and he smiled sweetly at her, "Oh, I'm sorry, is this not the Science Lab?"

She shook her head quickly, "No... I think that's about two building over, but I'm pretty sure you have the right floor."

He nodded, "Oh, thank you, Miss."He turned to leave.

"Wait, er, you can call me Washington."

"The city?"

She winced, "No, the state."

He smiled widely, revealing slightly oversized canines. She failed to notice.

"I'll keep that in mind. Goodbye, Washington the state."

O.O.O.O

"Illinois, stop that! You're almost as bad as Wallonia..." Flanders, for what seemed like the millionth time that week, pushed the girl's hands from his hair. She pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

"You're mean."She glared at him.

"You're bothersome."He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Your outfit looks dumb."Huffed Illinois angrily.

"We're wearing the same outfits."

"Exactly."

"You've got s stupid accent."

"You speak Dutch."She smirked.

"You try speaking Dutch. Let's see how bad your accent is."

"I think the Dutch language is a conspiracy crafted by the mole people."

"You're insane."

"Jerk."

"American."

"Finally, some truths!"Her sudden grin turned just as suddenly into a frown, "Wait, is that an insult? Brat," she jokingly punched his shoulder, a bit too hard.

He sighed as the room flooded with more and more states, cities, and territories.

"WELCOME," Illinois bellowed proudly, "TO THE VERY FIRST AMERICAN CLUB MEETING."

A few people clapped halfheartedly, and she continued, "So, like, err, what's up?"

Flanders sighed, and stood up to leave just as, from somewhere in the room, a voice called out, "Who's that, Meggie?"

"Nobody you need to care about, Ollie!" She frowned deeply in 'Ollie's' direction, and turned to Flanders, who only wanted to leave.

"He's an honorary member, kiddies."

"Megan, I am older than you by far."

"Shove it, Thomas," She laughed and faced the Belgian once more, "I think your annoying-ass sibling was looking for you, anyway. Go ahead and go, we'll talk later."

"...Fine, bye." And he rushed out.

O.O.O.O

Iowa was adored by most people. Whether it be her adorable features, curvacious figure, or her sweet attitude, she was loved. It was an odd thing to see her with Ohio, since he was rather... hot-tempered, but they figured 'opposites attract'.

The funniest thing about the two of them was, 'opposites attract' actually applied. He was outspoken and sometimes cruel, and she was soft-spoken and quiet, and more often then not she was downright motherly. The two of them made quite a pair, though few new why.

It had started with a note. A simple, insignificant thing, that note was. It had several, messy words written on it, and had she not received the note, they wouldn't be together.

On the note, what was said had no meaning. No one but the two of them knew, and only her admirers cared to find out. Not like she would tell them.

But Iowa and Ohio absolutely adored each other, and they both shared their best friend, Illinois, so everyone got along great. Well, they had gotten along great, until Ohio got a text from another girl during the American Club meeting, regarding where they would meet.

She led him by the hand from the group, quietly, so that the lecturing Illinois wouldn't alert their fellow states with her loud, booming voice.

In the cramped, small room just outside the Art Room, she stopped, and stared at him stoically, trying to keep her voice even she spoke softly, "Who is she?"

"I told you, she's just some girl I met today..."

Iowa frowned, "That's not what I mean, Logan... I mean... Who is she, to you?"

He looked taken aback by her words, "T-To me? She's some girl I met. I don't even know her, I swear."

The petite girl looked down, "I trust you. If you say you don't know her, I trust that you don't... But... Please don't go meet her."

"I won't," he swore, "Gentleman's honor."

Neither of them knew he'd break that promise a short hour later, and neither of them suspected the consequences that would follow. 

O.O.O.O

**A/N: Geez, I took all day writing this piece of boring crap. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise. The first few chapters are always crap. Love 'ya.**

_**VstavajSonce**_


	8. Major Confusion

**A/N: Hallo~! The reason I didn't update sooner is because I decided to read The Hunger Games, 'coz a couple friends told me to, and I immediately loved it, and read all three in two days, then I became depressed because of everything that happened in the novels, and then I saw the movie, felt better, and started writing this. Geez, it's started to get really hard to keep all the characters sorted; so I decided to NO LONGER ACCEPT OCs. (Like, cue the gasping.) I know I said I always would, but it's over two dozen characters now, so I'm satisfied. Also, I'll probably accept more when the seniors graduate—If I actually continue it long enough for that. We're still on the like, third day of school, or something…**

**DISCLAIMER: (Because _someone_ insisted I do one—you know who you are) I don't own Hetalia or its characters. All the characters mentioned in this chapter belong to their owners, and the plot, dialogue and other stuff belong to yours truly!**

**Characters included in this chapter are: French Britain, Flintshire, Iowa (Love triangle action in this chapter, wahoo~!), Ohio, Wallonia, Illinois, Galway, and Berlin.**

**Pairings are going to start making themselves more and more apparent. Oh, and anything in (italics) is either (emphasized) or (flashbacked).**

**RATED T FOR LIKE, EVERYTHING.**

O.O.O.O

She didn't like classes, this much was obvious.

She was dozing off. Again. And he wasn't paying any mind to the lesson, either (Hey, who _needs_ Advanced Calculus anyway?) but he was at least pretending to take notes. Half of the class she was one her cell phone, blatantly texting someone, not trying to even conceal the fact, and once they stopped replying—or had their phone taken away—she'd gotten so bored she'd fallen asleep, shook herself awake, then went back to sleep again.

He couldn't remember when he'd started to notice her more. Maybe it was impossible to pinpoint, really, but he was vaguely sure that it had started with that night on the roof—where a jealous best friend had taken him back to their party and left her alone, somewhere in the building.

He was actually drunker that night than he'd realized at the time, which meant that no matter how lucid he seemed to be then, everything was still a blur when he tried to remember it. This proved to be a problem, because now any time he mentioned anything about that night to Glamorgan, she'd blush and immediately change the subject. He was beginning to wonder what in the world had taken place. He'd ask French Britain, but it was a definite fact that she didn't remember a thing.

Several minutes later, as if forced by some invisible power, she jerked her head up from where it had been laying on her arms, and stared at him. Like she was trying very hard to remember something she couldn't. It was unnerving, really, so he turned his head away and tried to pay attention to the teacher, who was no longer giving the lesson, but it didn't matter. Anything to distract him from the feeling of her eyes boring into the back of his head.

At the end of the class, she caught his shoulder and shoved a piece of notebook paper into his hand and stalked off like nothing happened, bright orange hair swaying behind her, like a flame.

He shoved it into his pocket, not bothering to read it just yet. After all, he might as well try to pay some attention in his next class…

O.O.O.O

"_If you say you don't know her, I trust that you don't... But... Please don't go meet her." At that moment, she looked so vulnerable, so very unsure of everything. A pang of anger ran through him, when he realized that it was basically his fault she looked like that._

"_I promise," He had said, "Gentleman's honor."_

_And she'd kissed him softly. _

Oh, how he missed her—and it had only been a few hours. It had gone by in a blur. It was almost a certainty that Illinois would no longer be talking to him—she would definitely side with Iowa. After all, it wasn't him who'd been wronged.

_It was an abandoned place, really, where they'd met. It was just an overgrown garden, smelling sickeningly sweet in the warm night air; but it was just that—overgrown, neglected. Secret. _

_She was already standing there when he showed up, phone in hand. She smiled brightly, flipping a long, fair lock of hair behind her shoulder as she spoke, "I was wondering when you'd show up."_

_He scowled, "How did you get my number?"_

_She giggled, "The school directory… Why? Did I inconvenience you?"_

_He nodded, but she took no note of this and continued to talk._

"_Look, I know you like me. And I like you—I've made that pretty obvious by now, though, haven't I?" She laughed, "You don't have to like, be so shy. I promise we're not being recorded. Lady's Honor."_

_How very strange, it was, that he'd made a similar statement an hour before to his girlfriend about this person. He supposed he had no right to call himself a gentleman at all anymore, though. Or to claim that he had any honor. He'd broken a promise made to a trusting person—a person he sure as hell didn't deserve as of now.  
><em>

_Wallonia took a step closer to him, "I was hoping, actually… That you'd be more talkative by now… It's kinda hard, being the only one to talk."_

"_Listen, I've already got—" Ohio started to say 'I've already got a girlfriend, leave me alone', but she began talking again, "Or, you can just stay quiet. 'Strong and silent, they always say—and it totally suits you. That and I just realized I've got tons to say to you."_

_She took another step closer and he just felt angrier by the second—but he couldn't interrupt her; she wouldn't let him. "You know, I liked you from the minute I saw you, and I knew you liked me too. It was in your eyes… Oh, I just remembered, I never said thank you for taking me to the infirmary before," She took another step closer, and he realized that this girl was much, much prettier than he remembered. _

_Iowa's face flashed through his mind—the one she wore earlier, when she was thinking he might have another girlfriend. No going back now, since Wallonia's lips are already pressed against his, and when did she get this close, and is he kissing back because he can't tell, and he's very confused, and everything seems to be spinning, and why wasn't he pushing her away, and—_

"_Logan?"_

_Wallonia pulled away and looked behind him, amused. "I think you've got a fan," she laughed breathily, as he turned._

_Iowa. And the expression she had was much, much worse than before. Because her suspicions were true. He was awful._

"_Sorry, honey," Wallonia said, leaning into him, expecting—well, he wasn't really sure. He wasn't sure about anything. What had just happened?_

"_He's taken," Wallonia said, basically shoving herself into Ohio's arms. He was still unsure of what was going on. Was Wallonia saying that he was taken by her…? Because he was taken, but he was taken by the stunned girl standing in the school doorway, looking at two people who obviously just didn't... click._

"_No." Iowa said, looking teary-eyed, "Not anymore." And she walked away swiftly, and Wallonia clung to his arm, like a leech clinging to flesh. Her fault… It was her fault… He shook her loose and went after Iowa, who happened to be standing still in the hallway._

"_Sam…"_

_She spun around and slapped him, and…_

He didn't want to remember anymore. He still wasn't sure of anything. Mainly why he had gone to see _her_ in the first place.

O.O.O.O

It was no news that rumors spread like wildfire once released onto a high school campus. And, by the next morning, Ohio was a social pariah. Iowa seemed to be something of an angel, and Wallonia was almost as hated as Ohio. The only people who remained neutral in the matter were Wisconsin and Dublin—for two entirely different reasons.

Galway noted first thing when she entered the cafeteria for breakfast the next day, that Iowa seemed a little _too_ cheerful for a girl who had just discovered she'd been cheated on. Oh well, Molly thought, let her deal with it her way.

Her way happened to be a series of complicated revenge plots, but this was something that Molly was not aware of.

As soon as she sat down with her lunch, Illinois began to interrogate her, and Molly wished she'd sat down with Edinburgh and Dublin, who were sitting a few tables away, ignoring her.

"So, are the rumors true then?" She asked Illinois, who gave a glance at Iowa, who was standing near the door, talking animatedly about something with Nevada and Manitoba, both of who seemed to be staring at the girl with a sense of smitten-ness.

"Depends. Which rumor? The one where he knocked up Flanders' sister, or the one where Iowa _caught_ him knocking-up Flanders' sister?"

She paused for a moment, "Err, both…?"

"Neither," Illinois answered immediately, "She caught him kissing another girl. And you know who she is," she gave an angry stare to the Belgian girl, who sat with her brother, ignoring the looks most of the people were giving her.

"Oh, good. I figured it was pretty weird, anyway." Molly said, as Wisconsin sat down next to them.

"What was weird?" He asked, biting into a piece of toast.

"Nothing, Jared, just keep eating and shut up," Illinois said coldly, then turned back to Molly.

"Why do you think he did it?"

"D-Did what, exactly? Kiss another girl, or let the rumors spread or…?" Molly's sentence trailed off, and Megan made a thoughtful face.

"Hmm… Kiss another girl, I think. Listening to the rumors is kinda funny, though. Upsetting, sure, but still funny."

"I don't know… Iowa's cute enough; and I don't think he needs to go out with two girls at the same time…"

"So you're Team Iowa, then?" The American asked, rummaging through her book bag.

"Err," Galway began, "I suppose…?"

"Awesome," Illinois chirped, pinning a brightly colored button to the front of the other girl's shirt.

"Is this like Team Edward and Team Jacob, Meggie…?" Jared asked warily.

"Shut up and eat your breakfast, Neutral," she scowled.

Really, Molly thought, her hatred against the other American was getting a bit ridiculous. He didn't actually do anything. And then, she noticed it.

"Neutral?" She questioned, "So, he's not on a team?"

Megan nodded, and Wisconsin sighed, "They're both my friends—I'm not going to pick…"

"Don't care. You suck. Shut up." Illinois stood up from the table, picking up her meal tray, "Catch ya' later, Molly."

"Do you ever think she's got mental issues?" Wisconsin wondered aloud, "Because she seems bi-polar."

"Yes," Molly affirmed, nodding, "All the time."

O.O.O.O

Being a loner was pretty nice. You never had to worry about being judged by your peers, never had to defend yourself against teasing, never had to think about impressing anyone. In fact, being a loner was great.

There was, of course, the initial loneliness that came with it, but once you overcame the occasional pang of desire for company, being alone all the time was a perfect way to go.

No one would believe Berlin when she said this, but she didn't really care if they believed her or not, since she was a loner, and she didn't need people to think what she said was the truth.

Up on the roof of the Third building at the Academy, she stared at the cloudy sky. A definite on the rain, she noticed. She hoped it would pour. There was something soothing about rain, the sound and the smell. It reminded her of… Well she wasn't really sure. Maybe it was just the feeling of nostalgia that accompanied the downpour.

Footsteps behind her. She spun around, but there was no one—wait, the tip of a shoe hiding behind a door.

"I can _see_ you, you know."

A dark haired boy came out from behind the door, "D'ya mind if I stay up here for a while? I won't bother you, I promise."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"

"Sorry, really, but half of the school wants to kill me right now, and I kind of need to hide…"

She blinked. Oh. Ohio. A total idiot, if you asked her. He didn't look like how the rumors depicted him. He was strong and muscular, with big blue eyes and black hair, completely different than the scraggly, greasy swine the rumor-mill made him out to be. It just chewed him up and spit him out, didn't it, she thought.

"I guess you can stay up here," the bright-haired girl said after a moment, "Just keep quiet."

He smiled warmly, and she was beginning to wonder if she should have told him to go. Because, company is not a good thing to have when you're so used to being alone.

O.O.O.O

**A/N: Okay. Finished! I hope I did the new characters justice! Alright, now, all of you go read the Hunger Games. C: Oh, and if you don't review, I won't update. Lolz.**

_**VstavajSonce**_


	9. Short but Sweet

**A/N: Hallo~! So, rushed chapter. Rushed, short chapter. Love you guys, so, so, so much. I promise there'll be a bigger one tomorrow, but I owed you peeps an update. Oh, yeah, review, or your characters will no longer be included. Yeah, I know, evil. I'm cool enough to pull it off. Unlike some _Seamuses _out there. **

**People included in this chapter (AKA, characters I don't own!): Okinawa, Virginia, Hesse, and Wallonia.**

O.O.O.O

Okinawa flipped absently through the pages of her notebook. Well, strictly speaking, it wasn't hers, since she had found it in the library, but that didn't matter much. The first page was completely empty, except for a small, spidery signature in the right-hand corner. J.B.

_J.B._

Was it Justin Bieber's? How had he gotten into their school, and more importantly, how had Alaska not found him? It couldn't be... Yes, it was unlikely. And stupid, seeing as how it was mainly written in German. Some of the things were a bit hard to translate, but it was rather similar to English, so it wasn't that difficult.

It seemed that no matter how curious she got about the book, about it's secrets and everything else it contained, she always ended up back at the start of it. On that one, single page with the two lone letters in navy blue ink.

She frowned at the book, and flipped back to a page somewhere in the middle, about halfway through. She titled it mentally, Passageways. Yes, that wasn't very creative, she admitted to herself, but it fit.

Apparently, there was several in the Science Building—she'd have to check those out later—and one on every floor of the old Language Building—those all led into each other, they'd make for a great game of tag, like something out of Scooby-Doo—and one in... The Library. Ten or so feet from where she'd found the book. Strange.

It wasn't as though she seriously believed in these hidden doors, but it was fun to imagine, and it sated her boredom, if only for a little while. But... She figured it wouldn't hurt to check if they actually _did_ exist, later.

O.O.O.O

Virginia glared at the rest of the room. All of his classmates, he decided, equaled the damage of a tornado.

Two boys sat in the corner. One, seemingly asleep, and the other, drawing profanities on his forehead. A lone vein in Virginia's neck throbbed, and he tried to ignore the two, an act that seemed to be in vain. Suddenly, a girl joined the two boys. But, much to his dismay, also began drawing things on the boy's face that were absolutely not school-appropriate.

Yes, it was free period, Thomas thought, gritting his teeth at the scene, but it was _not _a social free-for-all. It was for homework and, and, and... Well, yes. Just for homework, that's the only thing it was for!

Someone tapped his shoulder. Thomas jerked his head back to face him—Hesse. German personification. He recognized him immediately, though he wasn't exactly sure how. He couldn't remember meeting him, ever. Not even at a meeting, but there he was, looking neither happy nor angry.

If anything, he just looked bored. "You should probably start breathing at some point, you know."

Virginia swatted the other boy's hand away, fixing his glare on Hesse. An emotion flickered across his face, possibly amusement. "I don't need you to worry about my breathing," Thomas growled.

"I can assure you, I'm not." Hesse said smoothly, as though Virginia's anger had no effect on him whatsoever.

Virginia didn't reply, and instead went back to staring at Flintshire, French Britain and Harwich, who had woken up and had begun to search the room for something to wipe off the marker-made images scattered about his face. To anyone else, namely Illinois, this sight would have been very amusing, though it only made Virginia much, much angrier.

Eventually, it all just boiled over.

O.O.O.O

Wallonia frowned deeply at the small slip of light pink paper in her hand, as though that were enough to make it go away.

If looks could kill, and sometimes they can—if a person is about to jump off of a bridge—that piece of paper would have combusted long ago.

The door in front of her, labeled DETENTION, seemed to emit an aura of dread, and she hesitated, uncharacteristicly. She didn't want to go in—because whatever was in that room, it obviously wasn't wanting to see her.

She reached out to the doorknob quickly and twisted it, before her courage dissipated. The people inside were most definately not what she expected.

O.O.O.O

**A/N: OMG, super-short chapter. I know, less than 2,000 words isn't my style, but this was pretty rushed, and I will upload an extra long chapter tomorrow to make up for it.**

**Peace Out,**

_**VstavajSonce**_


	10. Ramblings of a Prefect

**A/N: So, some of you were expecting me to upload yesterday, and then earlier today. I'm so_so_so sorry! My monitor broke, so I had to wait until someone else got home to fix it; I wish I was more computer savvy... Sigh. Okay, here's the chapter. I don't know why, but most of it is from Virginia's point of view. Weird. This is shorter than I wanted it to be, but my muse just disappeared halfway through. I am so, so, so sorry. ;-; This seems to be a continuation of the next chapter, though the question of Wallonia's detentions hall remain a mystery until the next chapter.**

**Characters included in this chapter (Including brief mentions): Ohio, Virginia, Flintshire, Harwich, Glamorgan, Illinois, Iowa, Flanders, and Hawaii (Who will get a much bigger part in the future)**

**Special warning for this chapter, 'coz there's a lot of cursing.**

O.O.O.O

If there was one place he wasn't going to be ostracized, it was with his fellow states. He supposed he could call them family, but up until very recently he had been dating one of them,and it still seemed so awkward to regard her, or anyone else a sibling. Maybe not Indiana, but she sometimes acted like everyone was her sibling.

Illinois, of course, was trying her best not to curse him out—for old times' sake, if anything. But she didn't refrain from glaring at him whenever an opportunity showed up., and that made his heart sink deep into his chest. She wasn't the only one giving him dirty looks, but hers seemed to effect him more deeply than the others.

Wisconsin had told him, on the third day after what came to be known as the _indecent,_ exactly what she know thought of him. Those were some things he'd rather not remember. And she was handing out buttons that people could pin to their shirts, declaring whatever 'team' they were on. His supporters were a minority; and most of them were just close friends, or old allies, and the occasional asshole, who thought that it was great that he'd 'cheated', and 'gotten with' Wallonia.

_Just. Fucking. Great._

Everything just went by in a blur, occasionally slowing, but mostly just passing by. It's not like he cared all that much.

O.O.O.O

As Virginia rounded the corner around the Cafeteria, he caught a faint wisp of smoke. Cigarette smoke.

All the students in the school were obviously of age to smoke, but any kind of drug—legal or not—was forbidden on school grounds. It seemed to be that he was the only person in the school who could remember the rules. He scowled.

Two boys—he clearly recognized them from several days before; one of them still had faded marker lines scrawled across his face—were laughing uncontrollably, as the girl standing beside the taller boy glared at the two of them.

"Stop being such an ass, Rhys!" The Welsh girl proclaimed, smacking the boy on the arm. He laughed.

The English boy extinguished his cigarette just as Virginia was about to apprehend them.

"I don't think he can help it Glam—" Harwich was cut off mid-sentence by the raving American.

O.O.O.O

"ILLIINOIS!" He'd repeated her name at least six times by then, and it was the first time she'd given him any implication that she'd heard him. She gave him a look as though he'd whispered her name so that she could hardly hear him even if she was only a few feet away.

The hallway they were in quickly cleared out, and Illinois looked at her schoolmates disappointingly—like she was expecting them to encourage a fist fight with her 'brother'.

"Yes, Tom?" She blinked, innocently.

The vein in his neck throbbed, and his eyebrow twitched in irritation, "My name is Thomas, Megan. You know that."

"Of course," Illinois smiled sweetly at him, "I sometimes forget, 'coz you act like your name is Ass."

He held back the urge to shout at her. He was supposed to be civil. He was _supposed_ to be civil. That didn't necessarily mean he had or wanted to be civil with her. Actually, he didn't want anything to do with her. But she was being just... _awful_, and no one was stopping her. He sometimes wondered what the Hell was wrong with his schoolmates.

It was just one more year, he told himself, and then he could avoid them for the next thirty.

But all this was beside the point, so he did his best to ignore everything she said for another time.

"I see that," he started, looking away from her directly since her smile was irritating him, "you've become rather influential among your classmates."

"No dip, Sherlock," she laughed, "When'dya figure _that_ out?"

He clenched and unclenched his fists twice before replying. "I need to know something, Megan."

"Shoot, bro."

He sighed. "Why in the world are you so focused on making this Wallonia girl's life so miserable?"

Her amused expression immediately dissolved. "Are you a fucking idiot? You're asking me why? Why? Seriously? Ugh, you know she deserves _everything_ she gets."

"I was hoping you could use your..." He searched for the right words to explain this irritating girl, "_Charm_," yeah, that fit well enough, though the word didn't pass through his lips easily, "for good, instead of ruining another's reputation. That you could be the Female Prefect for your year. Flanders would be the male, of course. With his grades and his standing relationship to the girl you've currently been bullying like a school child."

"So," She began in turn, her hip jutted to the side and her hand placed firmly on it, "You're telling me to abandon all my hard work, and help her?" She scoffed. "You shitting me, Ginny?"

"Please don't call me that. Anyway, yes. I do. Because your 'hard work' is destroying another representation, and that's just shameful. I understand that she wronged a good friend of yours, but it is not excuse to act like such a dummkopf. Furthermore—"

"Lemme cut you off there, brother. She doesn't need someone else to save her. Anyone, actually. She deserves anything and everything she gets, and the sooner you get that into your goddamn head the better. I'm not helping you with anything, Tommy-boy. In fact," she said, a twisted smirk set on her lips, "You've just got yourself a rival."

She turned on her heel and left Virginia there, feeling as though he would very much like to shout himself hoarse.

O.O.O.O

At first, he'd planned on having at least two prefects per year—one male and one female—but there simply weren't enough volunteers, and if he forced them into it, they'd ignore the rules and disobey the school and talk other people into it, too. So he just went and grabbed anyone fit and ready to do the job.

He looked at the small group of Prefects he'd assembled. They were mainly just the people who hadn't been caught misbehaving, but some of them were honestly good apples.

From Freshman year were Hawaii—she had a lot of friends, including some who were outspokenly against Wallonia, for whatever reason—Michigan-she was rather intimidating, despite her grade and physical age—and Campania—simply because he was quiet and didn't do anything bad.

There was only one Prefect from Sophomore, so on patrols she just went with Michigan. It was Malaysia, though she sometimes just faded into the background, she was still valuable. Anyone willing to be a Prefect was valuable.

Most of Junior Year was on Team Iowa, and nearly all of them refused anything but. Especially Illinois—she was absolutely unreasonable. Having Wisconsin and Flanders would be great, but Wisconsin initially refused, and on second thought, agreed—he thought that standing against Illinois would make her respect him more. It didn't. He couldn't walk straight for a while after she got him.

Flanders agreed to help, but not to be a Prefect. Well, he hadn't said anything. It was Virginia asking, and then Illinois darting out, grabbing Flanders' arm, and running off shouting, "YOU'RE NOT GETTING THIS ONE, VIRGIN!"

Virginia normally tried not to hit girls. But normal didn't seem to apply to her. Luckily, they were never within arms reach of each other.

And so Flanders had to approach the upperclassman later and agree to help, though Illinois would still pop up randomly and forbid him from becoming a Prefect.

Hawaii decided sometime during the first meeting who should be paired with who during patrols, and therefore got paired with Thomas. She wasn't pleased, but she wasn't about to offend him, either—it wasn't worth it.

Someone (No one could remember who, exactly) suggested to have a leader, and while Virginia was doing a decent job recruiting, he didn't consider himself at the top. They did.

The end result was unsatisfactory for everyone but him.

O.O.O.O

Though he was still on her bad side, Illinois still insisted on taking Flanders to the States Club.

No one approached Virginia.

O.O.O.O

**A/N: So, apologies. Everything just seemed to fall to crap today.**

**Peace Out,**

**VstavajSonce**


	11. Dancing, Detention, and Broken Windows

**A/N: Delayed update is delayed. Sorry 'bout that, guys. First, my internet was out, like, ALL FRIKKIN' DAY. Then, I had to go do some other stuff, and then I went to finish writing this. Like, sorry. D:**

**ALSO, I need a Beta. Badly. Any takers? :-)**

**ALSO #2, Whoever gets the 100th review gets a WHOLE chapter centered around their character. Because I want 100 reviews, and this POV thing is haaarrrrdddd...**

**ALSO #3, I don't wave accent writing skills. Use your fucking imaginations.**

**Characters Included: Minsk, Cartegena, Singapore, Wallonia, and Dublin**

O.O.O.O

"Minsk, hey! Hey, are you even listenin' to me?"

The dark-haired boy snapped his head up from his desk, and looked at his friend attentively. "Err... Yes."

"Then, repeat what I said."

He smiled teasingly, "'Ey, ahrr joo efan listenin' ta mii?"

"Not funny," She laughed, though. "What I said was, I'm bored, you know? So, we should start a club. Like, oh, what's his name? Tall, scowl-y," she made an odd, swooping gesture around her head, "Science hair..."

"Science hair? Oh, mad-scientist hair? Virginia? But... That isn't a club. That's a Prefect Group."

"Do I look like I care?"

"No."

"Then let's make a club."

And so it went. A Dancing Club—though there were only a few members. Cartegena wasn't even sure why a few of them showed up—That attention-seeking Welsh girl and her lackey, Flintshire, and then Illinois followed by two tan female Freshman, and Alaska, who seemed to be the only one who actually didn't know how to dance correctly and wanted to learn. Why the others were there would remain a mystery for quite some time.

Well, not Illinois. "I'm going to challenge that Ass to a dance-off!"

Minsk sighed, this was going to be a long day.

O.O.O.O

Of course, after years of knowing her, Minsk was quite adept at the style she was showing to the other students. It seemed that her only way of movement was a dance—every step graceful and planned, as though her steady and decisive gait was itself an intricate waltz.

He wasn't sure when it had become romantic, more than platonic, or if had had ever been anything short of attraction—but now it was surely more than that. He loved her. Sometimes, it hurt because she was so damn oblivious, but he was still thankful for that.

He could still be her friend anyway, even if she never found out how he felt.

O.O.O.O

The door opened, for the first time since she'd been in the Detention Room. In stepped Little Miss Social-Pariah, Wallonia.

Singapore frowned. If anything, she considered herself neutral in the whole matter, but the shiny pin on her shirt said otherwise. Of course, she felt bad for Iowa, but it was really not her business anyway. She glanced to the front of the class, where England manned the class. He was looking at Harwich—who glared at the table in front of him, childishly grumpy. Singapore looked back to the room's newest addition.

Wallonia seemed a bit more... frantic-looking than before. She was always collected and cheerful, though bossy, and now she was just so not _her_. But, after everything Illinois had said about her, it was only to be expected.

She sat down quietly, disregarding the supervisor—England, because he'd lost a bet against the other teachers—and his somewhat pleasant greeting to slump in her chair and gaze boredly at her nails.

"Hello..."

"Bonjour," the girl greeted, and then added humorlessly, "What are you in for?"

"Acting '_violently_' towards a teacher," Singapore replied dully. Wallonia smiled.

"Let's hope he deserved it, eh?"

A phone rang loudly before Singapore could reply. England looked around the room disapprovingly, especially at Harwich, who pouted in return, before he realized it was his own phone that was ringing. Really, who else would have his anthem as their ring tone?

"Hullo, who is this? ... Don't call me while I'm working! ... Oh, err... Bloody Hell, America!... You, WHAT? No. No. Fine... Ugh, I'll be there in a few minutes, git."

He looked to the class, as though he were assessing them. He stared at Singapore for a moment, and she stuck her tongue out at him, and he directed his attention to Harwich, who frowned up at him.

"You. Watch the class. Make sure nothing gets blown up," England said, looking at Dublin for a moment, then back to Harwich.

Harwich gave a curt nod, and glanced around the room. His eyes fell for a moment on Dublin, who was glaring at Wallonia, and then flickered back to their retreating teacher.

About two seconds after England left and locked the door, the class realized he left Harwich in charge. Though he was indeed England's child, he held no apparent similarities to his father, and was rather... incredibly irresponsible.

Dublin stood up, making a lot of unnecessary noise with his chair, and swung his suitcase—which was full of explosives—into the window, successfully breaking it.

"What are you doing?" Wallonia shrieked, jumping from her chair, eyes wide in shock.

"I don't intend on staying in a room with _you _people_,_" he looked distastefully at Wallonia.

He jumped from the window. The rest of them, still in shock from the broken window, hesitated to rush around it for a moment. The moment passed, and yelps of 'We're on the second floor!' and 'What the hell does he think he's doing?'.

Singapore peered out the window curiously. There didn't appear to be any blood. And there was a huge, prickly rose bush below their window, maybe he fell...

No. Apparently, he landed quite well, seeing as how he was walking off, suitcase in tow. Singapore smiled lightly. Quirky boy. Arrogant, annoying, insufferable, and quirky.

Harwich stood up to look out as well.

"Two stories. I think some applause is in order!"

No one clapped.

"I see. Oh, well..."

"Hey..." Wallonia said, frowning, warily stepping over a few bits of broken glass, "Won't you get in trouble, with England? Weren't you supposed to keep us all in here?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "it's just another in a long list of disappointments. I've stopped caring a long time ago."

"Hm." Was all her input. Well, before he settled himself up to jump out the window along with his classmate. Then, she freaked out, "What are you doing?"

He laughed, and hoisted himself onto the ledge, carefully avoiding the jagged edges of the glass, "It's only two stories. I'll be fine." And he jumped.

He wasn't nearly as graceful as Dublin, and it was obvious that he had injured himself in his attempt.

"Who wants to take him to the infirmary?" Wallonia questioned, and the five remaining members of the detention group grumbled 'no' in response.

Singapore had the smallest of smiled painted on her lips as she said, "Oh, well. I'm sure he can manage."

O.O.O.O

Later, as Wallonia and Singapore made their way to the Girls' Dorm, Wallonia broke the silence.

"So, you like him, huh?"

"... What? Or, who?"

"Don't play dumb," Wallonia frowned, "England. You like him."

"Are you trying to play match-maker?" Singapore stopped in her tracks and stared at her under-classmate.

"Maybe I am," Wallonia said, dismissing Singapore's look, "It'll go better than my love-life has lately, I promise."

"... What?"

"Oh! Please, come," Wallonia scribbled on a piece of note paper from her bag, and handed it to the other girl, "_here_, after school tomorrow."

"...What?"

"I'll see you then. Maybe. Err, bye!" She gave a quick, parting smile and disappeared up the stairs to the Junior Girl's Dorm.

O.O.O.O

**A/N: This took me far too long to write. Would've taken longer, if _some_ people hadn't been... 'encouraging' me to keep writing it. Ash, Seamus, this is directed towards you.**

**Peace Out,**

**VstavajSonce**


	12. Life Sucks, So Let's Sneak Off, Instead

**A/N: Yay! Another update! Also, cheers for the end of school! C:**

**Thanks to my lovely/perpetually angry Beta-Reader Beloved of Eireann for proofreading this chapter! **

**Characters included in this chapter: Edinburgh, Galway, New Mexico, Portsmouth, Colorado, Flanders, Hawaii, Campania, Derbyshire, Michigan, New Jersey, and Alaska.**

O.O.O.O

Claude stared angrily at the ceiling. After the initial, few blissful seconds just after he woke up, he remembered. His sister is hated for a misunderstanding, no one wants to talk to him unless it's about her, and perhaps most importantly, Illinois was starting a hate campaign against her.

Life sucks sometimes.

He sat up, and looked at the clock on his roommate's bedside table—because he didn't have a digital clock, and it was a bit too dark in the room to see the normal one on the wall—and it read 6:12 in bold, scarlet lights. He frowned. It had been a little over an hour since the last time he woke up.

It was because he was dreaming about her, though he couldn't tell if they were blissful memories, or just nightmares. It was a little of both, to tell the truth.

He figured it wouldn't be so bad to just get up now, though. As he stood, he realized that one of his roommate's beds was empty. Which one was it? He looked to his right, and Jared lay there, tossing fitfully in his sleep, his bed curtain pulled partially back, revealing his figure. Ah, he wasn't the only one having nightmares. Directly in front of him, was that boy—he had forgotten his name, as they had never spoken more than a few words to each other—snoring quite loudly—it was surprising that Jared hadn't woken up by then, really—and laying in a puddle of drool. Ew. And beside his bed, was the empty one.

Ah, Ohio, the reason his sister was so despised. Claude, uncharacteristically, scowled.

Wait, why was Ohio gone? Claude hurried as quietly as he could to the door—which was rather difficult, because his foot was asleep—and yanked it open, and stepped into the cold hallway.

Compared to their room, the hallway was literally quite freezing. He almost went back into his dorm-room and dived under the comforter, but he kept walking, pushing his arms close to his torso, trying to keep warm in vain.

He had reached the bottom floor of the Boys' Dorm by the time he saw anyone.

A girl, small in stature, with long brown hair, and bright, interested green eyes looked up at him at the bottom of the staircase.

For a moment, he stood there, paralyzed with fear. She must be a ghost, he thought, or else I'm dreaming…

"Err," The girl spoke up, ineloquently, and he focused on her, "Do you know where my brother is—Wait, I mean, Ohio. Illinois had some stuff of his—I think she stole it—and the other girls wanted me to give it back…" she held up a medium-sized cardboard box, full of useless trinkets and books.

He focused on the details of her face, the smooth outline of her figure in the first bits of morning light. This girl looked so much like her, but it was impossible. She wasn't…

"I-I share a room with the—" He almost cursed the other boy, but caught himself. It would be rude if he did, "I share a room with him."

"Oh, that's awesome," she said, pushing the box into his arms with a grin, "Give these to him for me, won't you? I'm going to try to get back to my dorm before—"

"What are you two doing here? Flanders, Colorado! Back to your rooms!" A familiar, gruff voice called from the very top of the staircase.

Flanders turned to face Virginia, "All right."

Colorado—supposedly, that was her name, and he felt oddly relieved—gave the older boy a small smile, "Aw, can't I stay for just a little longer?"

"Absolutely not," He growled at her, and she laughed.

"Alright, alright, I get it. Not welcome and all. I suppose the Boobs will be happy to see me back, I guess… Bye-bye, Tommy~!" She waved goodbye to the other state and fled the building quickly, before he had time to react—and most likely shout at her.

It must've been his imagination, he knew, because no one could ever look that much like her.

O.O.O.O

Edinburgh looked up from his desk at the human in front of him. She was an angry woman—most of the human teachers were, actually. It seemed like the only ones who enough clearance to re-teach them had been all a bunch of angry old maids— who frowned disapprovingly down at him.

He wiped the drool that had been forming at the edges of his mouth tiredly and ignored whatever it was that the teacher was screeching at him. From the corner of his eye, it looked like a few of the girls were giggling. He'd give them something to giggle about.

O.O.O.O

"Oi-Oi-Oi can't believe ye did that!" Galway laughed, doubled over. They were in front of his dormitory—he was actually supposed to be in detention, but he skipped. Besides, one skip was better than what happened the last time they gave the British detention—and he had just told her what he did in his class.

"Well, ye can, because Ah did," he smiled and she straightened up.

"Oi mean, seriously, where in the world did ye git the oidea of pullin' down a woman's skirt? Literally," she said, shaking her head, "ye must be mad."

"Ah think Ah went a bit mad when Ah saw she was wearing a thong…" He frowned at the memory, and shuddered. He did not need to see that on a woman in her sixties…

"Ye deserved it," Galway grinned, "Anyway, it's Friday, so we should go inter town tomorrow. Oh! Maybe we can bring Illinois and Iowa, Oi don't think they've been off campus for a break since the start o' the year."

"Sure." He nodded, and headed inside.

"Oi! Wait, ye ass! Oi wasn't finished." Molly frowned at her friend, "Oi was going to say, ye should bring a few friends with ye, too. Ye moight get bored o' all the girl talk. Oh, but no' Dublin. He mentioned somethin' about blowing up England's private bathroom…"

"Brilliant."

"Oi wish ye would give more input," Molly laughed, walking away.

"Nae when Ah'm so emotionally scarred. It seems like ye don't care about me at all," He said jokingly, with a fake air of hurt.

"Yeah, that's about roight," she teased, "G'noight."

"G'nicht."

"I'm bloody tired," Portsmouth groaned, that morning at breakfast.

"Have some coffee then," New Jersey said irritably, pouring a large amount of maple syrup over her stack of pancakes.

"It doesn't work anymore…" Portsmouth yawned, "I can drink a whole pot and it still won't work…"

"I suggest a thrill!" New Mexico chirped from beside her, clapping his hands together. Portsmouth lowered her head and set it next to her fruit plate.

"Like what?" She asked, with another yawn escaping her lips.

"Like, like, like… Err, skipping! We can skip until lunch, get our free meal, and then hang out at our dorms! It's the perfect crime!"

"Except that you just said it in front of a Prefect, Max." Hawaii said, amused from behind New Jersey.

"Well, would you be interested in coming with us?" New Mexico asked, hopefully.

"I would, you know. I need a break…" She sat down at their table, her plate nearly empty in front of her.

"Then why not come?"

"Virginia's placed me on patrols with him today, and he'd check my attendance. I'd get caught for sure."

"You can count me out, too," New Jersey said, after swallowing her pancake, "Alaska decided to follow me around school and be annoyi—" A soft, light voice called out, interrupting her mid-sentence.

"New Jersey! It's so great to see you, you know! I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

"You saw me this morning when I woke up—actually, you woke my entire room up."

Alaska's smile faltered, "Medan asked me to. Her alarm broke."

"Whatever."

"Oh, well. Early bird gets the worm, yes? Ha-ha, so I was wondering—"

"No."

"B-But—"

"No. I don't want to. Go 'way."

"I-I… I'm sorry…" Alaska guiltily sulked off, and New Jersey went back to her meal.

Hawaii glanced at Galway who nodded, knowingly, and addressed New Jersey.

"She likes you a lot, you know."

"Yeah, it's friggin' annoying. If America wouldn't get so pissy, I'd beat her to a pulp."

"Why? Because she's nice or because you're an ass?"

"WH-What? Neither! She's just annoying."

"Whatever you say," Hawaii murmured, "whatever you say."

O.O.O.O

Somehow, Malaysia managed to get sick on the day of her first patrol, so they paired up differently than before. Hawaii didn't look very pleased to be there at all. And Virginia, well, he looked about as happy as usual.

"Campania und Michigan..." Virginia read off the list.

She scowled at her new partner—pretty boy. She'd seen him talking often with Hawaii, and wonder, only slightly interested, if something was going on between the two of them.

She peeked over to see the full list of Prefects.

Freshman:

Michigan

Campania

Hawaii

Sophomore:

Malaysia

Derbyshire

(_Wait, when had Derbyshire joined?_)

Junior:

Wisconsin

(_Figures, he'd be the only one to go against Illinois._)

Senior:

Virginia

(_And no one wanted to be in a group with him. Ah, perfect sense._)

"You've been staring at that an awfully long time."

Michigan jumped at the sudden voice from behind her, and spun around to face him- Hesse. "Why are you talking to me?" She demanded.

"For the sake of talking." He said, and walked away silently.

For some reason, that bothered her immensely. Wait. How the Hell did he gets into the Prefect meeting?

He was unsettling.

O.O.O.O

Campania didn't really like Michigan. She seemed to be… Too much. Of everything, actually. Her hair was too frizzy, too red, her frown was too deep, and her eyes glared too much. Her attitude was far too aggressive for his tastes. And his tastes were certainly not favoring Michigan.

He would much rather be paired up with Derbyshire—he didn't care if Michigan was in his class, she was too much for him—seeing as how she was much more balanced.

Her hair was tamed, and auburn and her eyes were so soft. She was so quiet and nice, and it was hard to think that if he hadn't waited until the very last year to enroll in school, he'd probably be her partner. He sighed, looking away from Michigan as they patrolled the halls.

This was going to be one long night.

O.O.O.O


	13. The Theme is Adventure: Part 1

**A/N: Sorry. Just... Sorry. This entire chapter is written from the Point of View of Galway, or as she more commonly referred, Molly. This chapter is not as long as it should be for how long it took, but the standing excuse is summer blues. So, ha. Anyway, thanks to my Shiny/People-Eating Beta Reader Beloved of Eireann, because he's been only slightly irritated by my prolonging of this chapter, and also because he fixed all my suck-yness in here. I hope you all enjoy it~.**

**Characters Included: Flintshire, Harwich, Edinburgh, Iowa, Hawaii, Illinois and Molly, the star.**

**O.O.O.O**

Molly was bored. Irrevocably, incredibly, permanently bored. It seemed, though she was rather important in the scheme of things, that she was completely missing all of the action. She'd been sitting around for far too long, and she itched for something interesting. For an adventure, maybe. It didn't need to be something huge, but it at least had to sate her appetite.

Maybe, finding a seemingly magical book that contained secrets about everyone and everything around her, or being caught up in a complicated love triangle, or having an affair with a teacher, or maybe even being abducted by aliens. Anything.

But there was a possible solution. Going to the town—Brightwood—opened up the possibility for one such experience.

And several people to guarantee it.

O.O.O.O

She woke up early, which was strange, since she was usually the type to wake up late and enjoy every ounce of sleep she could retain, but she awoke refreshed and excited, though the latter surprised her a bit.

Her roommates—Medan, Jakarta, and Hawaii—were all asleep still, so she tried to walk quietly, which, of course, backfired. She stood up gingerly from the place on the floor where she'd fallen, and grimaced when she saw that she'd waken up one of her roommates.

Hawaii rubbed her eye sleepily as she sat up and yawned, "What time is it?"

Galway glanced to her bedside clock. 6:23. She didn't have to leave until 9:15, what was she thinking, actually waking up this early?

"A little before six-thirty," She replied hastily, when she realized that she'd been staring at her clock long enough for the numbers to change.

"I see..." Hawaii mumbled and stayed sitting up for a moment before collapsing back into her pillows. Galway tiptoed across the room to her dresser—beside Jakarta's, and across the room, Hawaii's was next to Medan's—to get her predetermined outfit out and on, and then she had to walk as silently as she could across the room and to the bathroom, when she'd need to fix her hair, for sure.

At 8:00 sharp, three quick knocks on her door sounded, and a quick, "better be decent!" and then Illinois and Iowa were in the room, followed by Edinburgh.

Jakarta, who'd woken up a few minutes before, fled into the bathroom at the sight of new visitors, and Medan remained asleep, burying her head under her blankets. Hawaii looked up for a moment and smiled at the sight of her two sisters, but then went back to whatever it was that she was reading.

"Alright, c'mon, we're leaving." Illinois said, grinning, her arm linked with Iowa's. The latter of the two didn't look very pleased to be there, at all.

A quick glance at her clock told her that they shouldn't be leaving at all. "It's not e'en eight-thirty yet," she supplied quickly, and then turned to Edinburgh, "Shouldn't ye have a friend with ye?"

He smirked, "Am Ah that unreliable? He's waitin' outside. With a surprise."

Illinois snorted, "I promise we didn't get you a stripper. That's a completely different kind of weekend."

"Oi... don't e'en want ter know," Molly mumbled, but was quickly interrupted by a loud rumble—something like an engine, and a squeal.

"Oh, oh, oh! Come on, hurry up~!" Illinois grabbed Molly's arm and dragged her into the lobby, and suddenly Molly was very glad that she was a freshman, and therefore lived on the first floor of the girls' dorms, because Illinois didn't seem to care that Molly was stumbling and tripping over herself trying to keep up with her pace, and she couldn't help but think of what a disaster it would be going down stairs. 

The sky outside held no hope for a good day. It was cloudy, and for a moment, Molly thought that perhaps the engine noise she heard had actually been thunder, and that Illinois wanted to at least get out of the dorms before the rain started. That was, of course, until she saw Illinois gaping over four gorgeous motorcycles. Flintshire and Harwich were grinning—as per usual, Molly noted that it would be a bad sign if they weren't—down at her, and were muttering to each other, and every few seconds they laughed. Illinois didn't seem to pay them much mind, actually, and continued to gape at the vehicles.

It was just the six of them there, and no one was giving Molly much thought, but she had the oddest feeling of being watched. She shifted her stance uncomfortably.

"Okay, then!" Illinois popped up from the ground where she had been kneeling, and faced Iowa, "C'mon, we get the red one."

Iowa nodded slowly, still looking like she wanted nothing more than to down a few bottles of bourbon. The two girls took one step to the bike before Harwich jumped in front of them, "Sorry, girls. Two to a bike, one guy, one girl." Illinois had a look of severe distaste on her face as she hissed, "My sister and I get the red one."

"Why does it matter?" Flintshire spoke up, amused. Illinois grinned at him, and Molly had a bad feeling. She didn't need to know what would happen in Flintshire and Illinois teamed up.

"What?" Harwich, bewildered, asked his friend, earning him a smirk.

"You've got an ankle injury," Flintshire reminded him, "You'd have to ride bitch seat anyway."

Harwich frowned, perhaps out of embarrassment, but nodded. "Two to a bike," Flintshire repeated, "But pick a partner, since I don't feel like doing that for you."

O.O.O.O

The school itself was covered at least halfway by the forest—it didn't have a proper name, but several years before someone dubbed it 'The Forbidden Forest', and it just stuck, though there were no standing rules against going into it—but in the direct front there was a wide strip of road that ran for several miles, twisting and turning every so often. If one were to go along with it for long enough, then they would eventually come to a pleasant town, called Brightstone.

There were actually three towns near enough to the school that they could go. Somerville, a rich sort of neighborhood, with high-class salons and restaurants, but everything was a bit too expensive for the students who had a weekly allowance from their respective governments.

The next town was called Galena, and while it was very pretty on the way there, there were hardly any shops, and the locals were… less than friendly. Obviously, because there was nothing to do, and eventually people get bored and grumpy.

The last town—Brightstone—was more of a small city. There were around eight thousand people in all, and the place itself was locally famous for the tall clock tower protruding through the sky in the dead center or the town square. It was a pretty enough place, with smooth, stone sidewalks cleanly paved roads, and a cheerful air in the shopping district, but there were some bad parts, and they weren't easily avoidable.

But Brightstone was where they decided to go, because, all in all, it was by far the best setting for an adventure.

O.O.O.O

Fifteen minutes later, Harwich stumbled off the back of Flintshire's bike—well, technically speaking, it wasn't really his; he 'borrowed' it from the School Garage—whining about how un-manly it was to ride 'Bitch Seat'. Molly wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she could only guess.

"Keys," Flintshire demanded, following Harwich in dismounting the bike, "Hand them over."

Illinois pouted, but relinquished them anyway—it seemed that she wasn't going to argue with Flintshire, he must've gotten on her good side with the bike argument earlier—and Edinburgh tossed them nonchalantly over his shoulder and headed off in the direction of the Clock Tower.

Illinois followed, dragging a still out-of-it Iowa along behind her, and was followed moments later by Flintshire and Harwich—the later of which was limping something terrible. It seemed like he hurt himself more after getting off of the bike.

Molly hurried after her companions, grinning.

The Clock Tower was made completely out of stone and glass, and the smooth, polished floor was a bit slippery—something that Molly used to her advantage, skidding to a stop after sliding every few feet. There were four, huge pillars holding up the tower itself, and those pillars created tall archways for the people to walk through, and to pass underneath the tower. All in all, the Clock Tower was a bit overrated, and a bit too tourist-y for Molly's taste. 

Since the main reason for Flintshire and Harwich even being there—for which Molly was thankful, because they had, after all, brought the bikes, and it was a whole lot faster with them than without—was to distract Edinburgh while Molly and the two female states gossiped a bit and searched for some adventurous quest, Molly decided to disperse the group into two smaller ones—of three, of course, since having one of the boys with them would spoil it—and then to meet at the tower later.

O.O.O.O

"Oh my God."

Molly looked up. It had been several minutes since any of them had spoken, and they were sitting on the outside of a quaint—though the owners might be irritated if you called it such—sweet shop with a large banana split in front of each of them. The sky had cleared up a bit, but for the most part was still covered almost completely with clouds.

"What is it?" Iowa asked, only looking slightly interested. She was staring dully at their ice cream, wringing her hands nervously.

"It's nothing." Illinois stood up, "Molly, come here." She beckoned for the other girl to follow her.

"We'll be back in a minute, Iowa," Galway promised, giving her a concerned look, "So don' go anywhere."

She nodded simply and continued staring at the table.

After they'd gotten a few feet away, Illinois grabbed the other girl's arm and pulled her around the corner. "I think we're being watched."

"Wh-what? We're—we're what? By who?" Galway's eyes widened.

"I-I don't know. That's why we left Samantha. They're gonna get her, and we're gonna follow." Illinois smirked, "Are you ready for an adventure?"

Galway nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "O' course."

**O.O.O.O**

**A/N: BAHHHHHH. IT'S DONE. I FINISHED. I CAN FINALLY GO TO SLEEP.**


	14. Book of Secrets

A/N: Well, I _did _say I'd update by or before August, right? … Right? You can feel free to throw tomatoes at me, I deserve it. ;o;

Characters in this chapter: (In order of appearance) Flanders, Ohio, Okinawa, Andalusia, Iowa, Illinois, Galway, Flintshire, Harwich, Edinburgh.

E-Enjoy... ;o;

O.O.O.O

He was tired. Strictly speaking, he was always tired, but it was more so than usual—something was wrong. Restless nights, sleepless nights, dreams filled with lace and silk and soft, pink skin and bright green eyes, he was tired.

Perhaps he was just going through another bout of loneliness, but this time, there was no cheerful, upbeat Wallonia to turn to. He always had his brother—but they weren't on the best terms, even worse than their sister and he.

He lay in his bed late that particular day, a certain type of pain gnawing in his stomach and refusing to subside. He was used to it, by then, but he still hadn't figured a way to shake it.

His roommates—by then he could have addressed Wisconsin as a friend, but he feared if he said it aloud that Illinois would have an absolute fit—had all left for the day. Though, Ohio hadn't returned to the dorm room yet, at least not while Claude had retained consciousness.

The door creaked open, and a boy—looking just as tired as Flanders was, if not more—walked in, dark hair disheveled and sticking up at odd ends. Something inside him—beaten into him during childhood by those who had raised him and Wallonia herself—itched to straighten the boy up, but he feared—and maybe the consequences would be even worse than a raging Illinois, though that may be something they'd contain—that if he acted on them, the delicate, already broken situation would worsen.

So he continued to lay on his bed, hands under his head, refusing to look the boy's way.

"Oh, er, sorry, I thought you—Meg went out today... though she'd take 'ya."

Claude didn't really feel the need to reply to him—a reply that consisted of even three words strung along together seemed to be too much talking—so he just nodded instead, and stared up at the ceiling, blocked from his view by the top of his bed curtains.

Ohio ran his fingers through his hair—that appeared as if it hadn't been washed in a manner of days—and shifted his stance, unsure. "Er, uh, Colorado said you were the one who took my stuff back up 'ere. So, er, thanks..."

He couldn't contain the words that came out of his mouth, bitter and harsh, "Don't mention it."

Ohio nodded and inched backwards to the door sapphire eyes flickering away from Claude's direction, "Cool, well, uh... Be seein' ya', then."

Flanders scoffed, "Don't count on it."

He didn't even notice when Logan left—his thoughts had all returned to her, as memories were all he really had anymore.

O.O.O.O

She didn't even feel that bad about taking the book, actually. Whoever had left it—this J.B. person, as it was the only implication that the thing was actually owned by someone—had obviously not cared enough to take it with them.

Maybe it had been left on purpose? She couldn't rule it out. But something told her, that wasn't all there was to it.

She'd been reading it since the moment she'd awoke. She'd stashed it under her pillow—afraid, that if she left it out somewhere she couldn't feel it being taken, that it would be. Afraid the book was being watched.

But, she had to admit, it was an interesting read. It talked of the Old Academy—one in England, an unmentioned date—before it burned down. It talked of secrets. It talked of Flanders and a fair woman with wavy brown hair and brown eyes.

It spoke of his mourning at her loss.

It spoke of the boisterous Illinois and how she cried when Wisconsin was torn from her territory, and how New York had spooked a cow as a joke, and set fire to a city. It spoke of Iowa's lovers. Of Alaska's desire for... _Oh. _

And it spoke of a man. And she believed he was the writer of the book.

And Okinawa felt that she needed, more than ever, to meet him. She needed to know this J.B. But she did not know how well he knew her, already.

O.O.O.O

His gait was smooth, his swagger was defined, practiced, perfected. His tan skin and wavy dark locks only contributed to his almost-exotic charms. He was Andalusia, and he was in a romantic mood.

Over a year had passed since their last meeting. A small welt on his cheek, a scrape on list left palm from contact with the concrete and the sight of a busty, short-haired devil smirking cruelly.

Of course, then there was also the dark-haired rival, who seemed to no longer be a rival, and the one he had been pursuing for so long. Curly, long brown hair and doe eyes that had once been vibrant looked limp and hollow now as she stared at a half-melted banana split.

"Hola," he waved and her and took the open seat across her as his own. "I believe we've met."

"Yes," she agreed quietly, "September fifteenth."

"Ah!" He grinned, "You remember so well!"

"Of course I do." She looked considerably sadder, then. "It was the first time I'd ever been fought over."

"I was unaware that I was so very important! I would have tried much harder if I knew you'd remember me."

"It's not so much you I remember," Iowa said coldly.

"So, dear Ohio is then."

"Yes."

"He is, and this is unfortunate, horribly unworthy of your affections, Miss Iowa."

"Do you think I'm unaware of that?"

"Well, it is true what they say, you know."

"And what would that be?" She asked, looking up from the point of the table where she'd been staring.

"The heart wants what it wants."

She sighed, "And I suppose you're now going to say your heart wants me?"

He laughed and shook his head, "I'm afraid you've caught me." His expression became serious. "I do want you."

She cocked her head at him. "You're... Odd."

"As are you. And equally beautiful."

She frowned, "I don't believe in flattery."

"Well," he smiled, "That's where you're wrong. You see, I've been watching you for quite a while, Miss Iowa. And if there's one thing that makes you happy—it's being complemented. So, in fact, you believe quite heavily in flattery."

"Not from you," she stood from her seat. It clattered behind her to the pavement, and her face heated—the moment seemed too over-dramatic.

"Yo! Punk!" Illinois came back into view, and Iowa sighed a breath of relief. And then, she realized who it was. Oh, dear.

Illinois, not asking questions, ran to her sister's side, and in passing Andalusia, grabbed a fistful of his dark, curly hair, and tugged him along.

"Who the Hell are you, huh?" She hissed into his handsome, pain-filled face.

"A-Andalusia!" He cried, and it was obvious that her grip loosened.

She let go completely, "I'm gonna give you five seconds to explain why you've been following us all day. Five seconds, or I'm going to make a scene."

"I-Isn't this a scene already,Megan?"

"Of course not," the older sibling almost laughed, "I'm not even shouting yet."

"People _have _started to stare, though, Megan." The Irish girl murmured, and looked over Illinois' shoulder a bit anxiously.

"Well, that sounds like a them problem." She looked away from Galway and back to the Spaniard, "Four seconds."

"I wanted a moment alone with her! Not for anything bad—I just wanted a minute to speak to her." He cried, scrambling up from the ground he's fallen on when she'd let go of his hair. "That's it—I promise. Gentleman's honor."

Iowa's eyes betrayed her emotions. Horror, shame, sadness. She bit her lip. Illinois glanced at the younger girl, "Well, what if I don't believe you?"

"What—you think I have some malicious intent?" He took a step back, and Illinois took a step closer.

"Maybe I do." She scowled, "And what then?"

"You see, the thing about that is, that—" And in the two seconds it took her to figure out what he was doing exactly, he ran, tripped over Galway, and peeled down the street, bumping into people and apologizing, but never stopping.

"Ah, a good chase." Illinois smiled to her two companions, "Care to join me?"

O.O.O.O

"Where the fuck _are_ they?" Flintshire lit up a cigarette and looked aggressively around. Somewhere nearby, a baby started crying.

"Messing around—what do you _think?_ Illinois probably got into a boxing match or something." Harwich held his hand out to the Welshman and was passed the cigarette. He puffed it indignantly. "That's kind of jerk-ish, don't you think? Ditching us like that, I mean."

"Well, what did you expect? It was those three. You know how they are." Edinburgh sighed.

In Flinshire's pocket, his phone rang. He slipped it out and smoothly brought it to his ear in a fluid, swift motion. "Hello."

A female's voice could be heard from the other line.

"Right now?"

The same voice.

"How did you manage that?"

The voice laughed.

"I suppose."

The voice replied.

"Yes, I'll meet you there."

He hung up and placed the phone back into his pocked.

"I've got to go," he said to the other two. "I'll be seeing you."

"Wait," Harwich grabbed his arm, "Who was that? Your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Flintshire replied, his eyes cold.

"Since when?" Harwich scoffed, "I've never met her."

"Sure you have."

"Then who is it?"

"Bugger off, will you?" He snapped, and jerked his friend away, "She's not any of your business."

And Flintshire stalked off, his feet stabbing the ground with each step.

O.O.O.O

She was sitting in the square, in the grass. Under the shade of the largest tree on campus (it's base was something near two hundred feet, or something) listening to music with only one ear-bud in. In her hands was a book. A Stephen King novel, if she wanted to be specific. But she didn't, not really. She wasn't paying much attention to it, to be honest.

"Rose Madder? Is she mad at flowers, or is that her name?" A familiar voice asked her. She'd not noticed the handsome boy standing behind her. From the question, she figured, he'd been standing there long enough to make her look stupid for not noticing. Great.

"Honestly? I have no idea," she laughed, and set the book in the grass beside her.

He sat down as well as soon as she did, like she'd patted the area next to her to beckon him. It was just as well, for she had been craving a bit of company.

"Not too captivating, is it?"

She shook her head.

"May I recommend the Twilight series?"

She frowned, unsure if he was serious or not.

"I'm only joking. Please don't glare like that." He gave a small, helpless smile to her.

"Oh, what? I—Sorry." She looked down to her lap.

"I've found that joke tends to get people to laugh."

"I've heard it one too many times."

"I see. Is it because you're Washington, the state."

"I see no other reason for it."

"Maybe because you're rather pretty. Isn't the Swan pretty?"

"Um, yeah, I think." She replied, heavily. Was that a genuine compliment? What?

"Do you believe in vampires?"

She blinked in surprise. "I—I what? Vampires?"

He nodded, "Yes. Vampires."

"Of course not," she scoffed, "What kind of idiot believes in those old legends?"

"A lot of people," he said, and she almost felt she offended him, but he continued, "Though I am not one of them."

"Oh. Then... Why do you ask?"

"To make conversation last."

"I... see."

A moment of silence passed, and then the Romanian's handsome smile once again appeared. "Would you like to accompany me to lunch, Washington the State?"

"If I do, will you stop calling me that?"

"Ah," he said, "I thought you wanted to be addressed so."

"No... I guess, I... Look," she sighed, a bit confused, "Just call me Olivia."

"Of course, Olivia." And he smiled once more, and she did not miss the slight glimpse of light reflecting off his sharp, pointed canines.

O.O.O.O

A/N: I want to apologize again. It's been like, a year. I promised two months. I stayed up all night long to finish this, just for you, my darlings. Keep in mind that I did write this over the course of several months, and then, revising it, adding new sections, building up storyline to be perfect. I want you to know the effort I've put into this chapter. And I want that to keep you from flaming me because of the time it took. I'm sorry.

Peace out,

VstavajSonce


	15. All This Chatter

A/N: So, you'll notice this chapter is full of "witty" banter. Have fun trying to figure out what's going on, because I sure as Hell don't know. :D

* * *

><p>"Hey, what are you doing lunch hour?" He asked suddenly, from behind her. She jumped.<p>

"Oh, hi!" Olivia greeted Bucharest, who had a habit of scaring her lately.

He smiled, annunciating each word, "What. Are. You. Doing. Lunch. Hour?"

"Well, for starters, I'm going to eat some lunch. You?"

"Eating lunch. With you?"

"Of course." Olivia smiled, "Come on—we should beat the line."

"Of course," he agreed, and gestured in front of him, giving a slight bow, "Ladies first."

"Oh, what a gentleman," she laughed as he did, and they departed the hallway.

"So," She said as they approached the Cafeteria, "What sort of movies do you like?"

"Movies." He echoed, thinking, "Hm. Good question."

"One with no answer."

"I'd have to say…"

Romantic comedies?

Scary?

Violent?

"Documentaries."

Ah, she'd not been expecting that one.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. They're terribly gut-wrenching. Make you feel," he smiled. "Allow me to guess yours."

"Alright. Go ahead."

"Horror."

"… Really?"

"Yes! You look the type to like watching people get mangled and terrified…" He seemed to realize what he was saying, "In the most feminine way, of course."

"Oh, yes, the utmost feminine way." She agreed, sarcastically. What was he thinking, saying that? He's so weird…

"Really cheesy gory movies," he went on cheerfully, "where the women—"

"Shower during rainstorms all alone in mansions." She laughed. "They're bimbos!"

"What's a bimbo?"

"Oh, well, they're… uh…" She racked her mind for an explanation, "A super dumb girl."

"I see." He remained smiling, though she got the feeling he didn't fully understand.

"Yep."

"Was I right?" He asked after a moment.

"About what? The movie thing?" She furrowed her brows.

"Yes."

"Oh, no. You were dead wrong." She lied, "I love musicals. Operas, actually."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"Because you've never said one word about operas or musicals—but you went on about the horror films."

"Well, you've caught me." Olivia shrugged, "I fibbed."

"That's all alright. I liked feeling like Mister Holmes for a bit."

She laughed, "Mister Holmes, huh? I've got a challenge for you, then."

"Accepted."

"You don't even know what it is, yet!"

"Then go ahead and tell me."

"What. Is she doing after lunch?" Olivia pointed to Alaska, who was sitting with some classmates at a table

"Hm." Bucharest stared at the younger girl for quite a while. "She's going to order the vegetarian meal—despite her having eaten meat for dinner last night… After lunch she and her classmates are going to… English class."

"Wow—you're… right. Cool." She looked at him, surprised. He really _was_ like Sherlock Holmes.

"No, you see. I eat lunch at the table opposite her every day," he laughed sheepishly, "I saw her eating steak last night—and every day she orders the salad choice… Plus, all Sophomores had English fifth hour, that's just common knowledge."

"Oh, well," Colorado said, still feeling as if he were truly a detective, "You noticed and remembered. That's all Holmes does, anyway."

"I see. So I should be a real detective then."

She nodded, "Oh yeah. You'd be the best in the world."

* * *

><p>Nearest to the girl's dorm—a new, four story building containing four rooms per level, facing opposite the Boy's dorm, which was identical—was the prized plot of land that belonged to the school's professional and amateur botanists, the Gardening Club. (Herbology Class; some had called it).<p>

Around the Garden, which also supplied many ingredients to the school's kitchen—most of it, actually—was a low, stone wall. It looked far more unstable than it really was, though only a few students knew this very random fact.

Glamorgan being one of them. She often sat along it, enjoying the view of well-kept flowers and a tended vegetable garden. But on the twenty-third of September, she walked on the uneven surface, keeping an odd balance as she did.

Walking the pavement next to the wall was Flintshire, on his way to the dorms, a dark blue phone in his hand.

"Who're you talking to?"

"You, now."

"On the phone, stupid."

"Harwich."

"Why?"

"Because we're in love," the older boy responded sarcastically.

"I knew it." She fist pumped, lost her balance, and toppled into a nice patch of cabbage. Neither of them wanted to think of the Garden Club's reaction at the discovery of the ruined vegetables. Glamorgan was truthfully a bit surprised at how colossal the damage was, considering the fall was only about two and a half feet.

"You're the most graceful—" She cut him off, though he kept laughing.

"And you're the ugliest bastard I've ever seen."

He smiled, "Oh, I'm quite sure."

She nodded indignantly, and stood up, wiping dirt and bits of award-winning cabbage off of her shorts.

"It comes from the inside," she huffed, and he, no longer bothering to pretend to care, went to walk away.

"Oi!" She tripped forward—she seemed to be quite clumsy, then—and tackled him. "Who were you messaging?"

"None of your business." He tried to push her off, as she was sitting on him, but she didn't take it, "No. You tell me."

"Or what? You weigh like, ten pounds soaking wet. You can't do anything to me."

A small dribble of saliva ran down her chin, "I'll spit on you."

"Ew. Why would you even think of that? Besides, I told you, already. I was talking to Harwich." Rhys attempted once more to get her off, but she had him pinned.

"You're such a liar."

"And if I am? Why do you even care?"

"Because." She pouted, and scampered off beside him on the ground, "You're my big _brother_." She looked awfully dramatic, even if she had bits of ruined cabbage in her very tangled hair.

"Who's the liar?" He frowned, and she gave a great laugh.

"Definitely still you, Rhys. Not me at all. Never" She grinned

"You'd make a horrible sibling."

"You'd make a horrible rhinoceros."

"I agree."

"Well… We are siblings, aren't we? Technically?"

"Hm…" after a moment of thought, "No. You're not nearly pretty enough to be my sister."

"I hate you." She scowled.

"Or nice enough." Rhys added.

"You're terrible."

"And you smell terrible." He smiled, and Delyth smacked his chest.

"Come on, that's not even clever."

"Oh, really, I thought I was being brilliant." Was, once again, his sarcastic response.

"Ha ha, you're so funny."" She drawled.

"I know. I'm so glad you've noticed."

"Whatever," She dismissed him, "I know you weren't talking to Harwich."

"How so?"

"Because _I _was, and he said you were," Delyth sniffled, "_mean_."

"Ah. I see."

"So, will you tell me?" She grinned hopefully at her almost-brother.

"Not a chance in Hell."

"I hate you."

* * *

><p>"Hey," Jeju Island looked up as she spoke. The grass around her hands felt soft and new, despite the season.<p>

Seoul looked up from her iPod, where she'd been playing a game, "Hmm?"

"Do you… Like, anyone?

She thought. Two minutes passed. Jeju was about to dismiss her ever asking the question, but was interrupted just as she opened her mouth.

"Yes."

Somehow, despite her figuring that was the answer, Jeju Island still felt a bit surprised.

"Who?"

"Secret."

"Is he cute?"

"No." Seoul deadpanned, though Jeju didn't observe her tone.

"Huh. I didn't think you the type."

"The type to what?"

"To like an ugly person."

"Ah! Jeju, that's so mean!"

"I'm only joking, Seoul. Calm down."

"Yeah, Seoul," Colorado said, from behind them, "Calm your tits."

None of the four knew what drove the American to make constant, seemingly endless comments on the Korean capitol's chest, and none of them truly cared all that much.

Colorado stood side-by-side with her sister, Washington. They looked quite alike, both with brown hair and kind eyes. Even their heights were similar—within an inch of the other.

Seoul turned around, "Colorado, Washington! Come and sit with us."

Colorado shrugged, "Sure. I've got nothing better to do."

"So," Jeju continued, "Do _you_ like anyone, Colorado?" The girl shook her head. Jeju turned her head to Washington, "Do you?"

Olivia shrugged noncommittally, "None I can think of."

"What about that boy I saw you with a few days ago?" Seoul asked, "Outside the Language Department?"

Olivia's face reddened a bit, "Bucharest? Of course not, we hardly even know each other!"

"But, you're pink," Seoul teased, "You're in _looooo_ve."

"No," Washington said firmly, "We don't even know each other. I wouldn't even call him a friend. Besides, he's kind of weird."

And then, as if out of a scene from a horribly cheesy movie or novel, she got the suspicion that the very man she was speaking of was standing within earshot but out of sight. Her suspicion was confirmed when Seoul's mouth opened ever so slightly as she gazed over her shoulder.

Bucharest didn't look phased in the slightest upon her first look, but in closer inspection, his eyes betrayed him. He was hurt. Olivia felt guilty. Of course, they were friends. They'd eaten lunch together and walked to class together. They'd talked of movies and gossip and had fun. Of course they were friends!

He stalked off, his gait unchanging; though Olivia felt a pang of guilt with each step he took.

"Oops."

"Well, that ended rather poorly," Seoul looked at her sister, "Didn't it?"

Jeju nodded.

"I'll, uh," Washington stood up, "I'll be seeing you guys." She took off in the direction Bucharest had been walking.

* * *

><p>"I thought I'd find you here."<p>

Berlin looked up from the novel she'd been reading. A tattered edition of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. She'd been curled up in a corner of the library it'd be difficult to find. But of course, Ohio had somehow managed it.

"I thought you'd be dead," she replied, looking back to her book, "Or are the Minions less active these days?"

"I'm just getting sneakier," he replied, sitting on the floor beside her, leaning his head against the windowsill.

"You'll be as good as Hesse someday," she noted.

"A boy can only hope," he gaped dreamily, causing her to snort.

The two had been in the company of each other more often than not in the previous two weeks. Berlin was not the friendliest, but then, neither was Ohio.

"What've you got today, then?" He asked, leaning over to look at her book, "The Hunchback, huh? You know they all croak at the end."

"Yes," she closed the book, irritated, "I did, actually."

"Well. Now that you've done with all that book business," He stood and held his hand out to her, "Wanna get some lunch?"

"Alright," She sighed and took his hand, "Let's go eat."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Pavel…" Cartagena asked, wind blowing ever-so-poetically through her long, dark hair.<p>

"Hm?" Minsk vocalized; his mouth still full of food. It had been her idea to sneak up to the roof to eat. And she'd been right, of course. She was always right with that sort of thing. The view was amazing. He could see the three surrounding towns—Brightstone being the most prominent, with its huge clock tower—in perfect detail.

"What should the Dance Club do?" She looked majestically over the railing, leaning over a bit—his heart skipped a beat, thinking she might plummet down to the cement.

"What do you mean?" He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"The Harvest Fesival…"

"Is over a month away. The other clubs haven't even started their stuff yet."

"I know, but…" She sighed, "I'm afraid if we don't start now—we won't start ever."

That sounded a lot like… He sighed, "Don't worry. There's always time."

"Better sooner than later, still." She said quietly, turning to look out at the horizon again.

His stomach churned. Perhaps she was right. Not about the dance clubs routine for the Festival. But… About them. Maybe he should tell her sooner, rather than later… Maybe…

"Listen, I—" He chocked out, only to be interrupted by the stairwell's door opening. A handsome head, framed by curly dark hair peeked out.

"Oh, Cartagena!" The man said—Andalusia, the Spaniard, "I haven't seen you since you were itty-bitty!"

"Amancio!" She cried, and the two embraced, "Where 'ave you been? I've not seen you at all here!"

"I've been preoccupied." Amancio smiled and laughed, and gave a glance to Minsk, still sitting down. "Oh. Hello. How are you?"

"Fine," Minsk felt like snarling at the man, but he remained calm.

"Wonderful. Now, Cartagena, I've something interesting to show you. Come with me."

And they did leave, Cartagena left with a final wave and smile, and Minsk was left alone.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: There you go, Chapter fifteen. I'm going to go rewrite chapter two now. Or sleep. Sleep sounds good… :'D<p>

-VstavajSonce


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